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THE 

ART  OF  LIVING  LONG 
AND  HAPPILY 


HENRY    HARDW1CKE 

•  of  "  The  Art  of  Winning  Cases,  or  Modem  Advocacy  " 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

KBW  YORK  LONDON 

*T  We*  Twenty-third  Street  24  Bedford  Street.  Stnnd 

wbe  Knickerbocker  press 
1895 


COPYRIGHT,  1895 

BY 

HENRY  HARDWICKE 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


ttbe  ftnlcfeerbocfeer  press,  1Acw  iRocbcllc,  «. 


25796 


TO 

MY  WIFE 


PREFACE. 

"  Would'st   thou   fashion    for  thyself   a  seemly 

life? 

Then  do  not  fret  over  what  is  past  and  gone, 
And  spite  of  all  thou  may'st  have  lost  behind, 
Live  each  day  as  if  thy  life  were  just  begun. 
What  each  day  wills,  enough  for  thee  to  know, 
What  each  day  wills  the  day  itself  will  tell. 
Do  thine  own  task,  and  be  therewith  content  ; 
What  others  do,  that  shall  thou  fairly  judge. 
See  that  thou  no  brother  mortal  hate, 
Then,  leave  all  beside,  to  the  Master  Power." 

GOETHE. 

There  are  many  people  who  believe  that 
the  pursuit  of  happiness,  and  of  health,  can- 
not be  reduced  to  an  art  ;  that  man  cannot, 
by  exercising  his  faculties,  mitigate  his  pains 
and  multiply  his  pleasures. 

To  such  grave  and  learned  authorities 
might  be  opposed  counterbalancing  authori- 
ties. From  Socrates  to  our  own  immortal 
Franklin,  the  wisest  and  best  men  have  be- 


preface. 


lieved  that  men  may  be  directed  in  the  art 
and  instructed  in  the  science  of  happiness. 
The  men  who  have  entertained  this  opinion 
have  been  the  wisest  and  the  best  of  the 
human  race,  and,  it  may  be  said,  that  they 
were  not  all  surrounded  by  those  happy  cir- 
cumstances which  would  naturally  inspire  the 
same  philosophy.  They  were  men  who  had 
experienced  all  the  conditions  of  life.  It 
seems  as  if  nature  had  studied  to  prove  by 
great  examples  that  our  happiness  depends 
upon  our  reason  more  than  upon  our  cir- 
cumstances. Epictetus  lived  a  slave,  in  chains, 
and  Marcus  Aurelius  on  a  throne.  And  yet 
both  were  supremely  happy. 

The  illustrious  philosophers  of  Greece 
have  merited  the  veneration  of  ages,  by  in- 
dicating principles,  the  practice  of  which 
would  render  men  better  and  more  happy. 
Their  glory  is  not  founded  on  their  physics, 
now  known  to  be  full  of  errors,  or  their 
metaphysics,  so  often  puerile,  but  upon  those 
teachings  which  conducted  their  pupils  to 
happiness. 

Socrates  chiefly  esteemed  the  science  which 
teaches  us  how  to  live  as  we  ought. 

Strange  to  say,  we  speak  of  those  sciences 
which  they  held  in  light  esteem,  with  enthu- 
siasm, while  we  regard  as  comparatively  un- 


preface. 


important  those  studies  which  they  judged 
alone  worthy  of  human  nature. 

All  arts  are  difficult  of  acquirement,  and 
this  art  is  not  an  exception.  But  teachers 
do  not  cease  to  teach  because  all  their  pupils 
do  not  become  as  learned  as  they  could  wish. 
As  an  excellent  writer  says  :  "  Suppose  it 
had  been  said  to  the  ancient  philosophers  : 
'  You  will  never  reform  the  human  race  ;  and 
instead  of  profitless  dreams  about  wisdom 
and  happiness  you  ought  to  desist  from 
subjects  so  futile,  and  consecrate  your  vigils 
to  sciences  more  worthy  to  occupy  your 
thoughts.'  Would  they  not  have  smiled  with 
pity  upon  such  counsel?  Had  they  deigned 
to  reply,  would  they  not  have  said  :  '  We  are 
well  aware  that  we  shall  not  purify  the  heart 
of  the  wicked  of  its  pride,  envy,  cupidity  ; 
but  shall  we  derive  no  glory  from  having 
confirmed  some  good  men  in  their  career? 
In  the  midst  of  storms  we  felt  our  energies 
invigorated  as  we  perceived  that  our  spirits 
were  in  accordance  with  theirs.  However 
feeble  may  have  been  the  influence  of  our 
writings,  affront  not  humanity  by  supposing 
that  ours,  however  partial  may  have  been 
their  circulation,  will  nowhere  find  minds 
worthy  to  profit  by  them.  Perhaps  they  will 
kindle  the  holy  love  of  virtue  in  some  of 


preface. 


those  who  may  read  them  in  the  youthful 
age  of  unsophisticated  and  generous  resolu- 
tions. Few,  who  read,  will  practise  our  doc- 
trine in  all  its  extent.  Almost  every  one 
will  be  indebted  to  it  for  some  solitary  prin- 
ciples. It  is  possible  we  may  never  have 
numerous  disciples.  But  we  shall  have  some 
in  all  countries  and  in  all  times.  It  is  a  truth 
that  ought  to  satisfy  us,  that  such  discussions 
are  based  neither  upon  exaggeration  nor 
revery.  The  science  of  happiness  would 
indeed  be  chimerical  if  we  expected  that 
it  would  impart  the  same  charms  to  all  pre- 
dicaments in  which  our  lot  might  cast  us. 
Instead  of  indulging  such  visionary  hopes,  if 
these  discussions  dissipate  the  errors  which 
veil  the  true  good  from  our  eyes,  if  we  learn 
to  bring  together  all  the  easy  and  innocent 
pleasures,  and  to  render  the  painful  moments 
of  life  more  rapid,  we  have  been  taught  an 
art  which  it  is  possible  to  demonstrate  and 
improve  to  an  indefinite  extent.'  " 

The  author  has  not  omitted  useful  sugges- 
tions, although  they  may  seem  common- 
place. The  didactic  form  of  the  work  has 
permitted  him  to  give  the  facts  which  he 
has  collected  with  great  condensation  and 
directness. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — HAPPINESS  SHOULD  BE  SYSTEMATI- 
CALLY PURSUED  i 

II. — HAPPINESS  DERIVED  FROM  BOOKS  27 

III. — CHEERFULNESS  ....  38 

IV. — THE  PLEASURES  OF  DUTY  .  .  42 

V. — TRANQUILLITY  OF  MIND  .  .  47 

VI. — COMPETENCE  .  .  .  52 

VII. — MEANS  OF   ACQUIRING  AND  PRE- 
SERVING HEALTH  57 

VIII. — LIVES  OF  CENTENARIANS  86 


THE  ART  OF  LIVING   LONG  AND 
HAPPILY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HAPPINESS   SHOULD   BE   SYSTEMATICALLY 
PURSUED. 

"  I  have  never  spent  an  unhappy  day  in  my 
life,"  said  a  learned  Frenchman,  who  lived  to 
an  advanced  age,  honored  and  respected  by 
all  who  knew  him.  The  experience  of  this 
man  shows  that  it  is  not  absolutely  impossible 
to  be  almost  entirely  free  from  sorrow. 

That  much  rational  enjoyment  may  be  ob- 
tained by  the  systematic  pursuit  of  happiness, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  It  is  also  true,  that 
many  sorrows  may  be  avoided  by  attending 
to  the  precepts  of  the  wise  upon  the  art  of 
living  well.  And  yet,  strange  to  say,  there 
are  many  people,  who  believe  that  all  theo- 
retical discussions  of  the  pursuit  of  happiness, 


2         Systematic  pursuit  of  f>appfness. 

are  profitless ;  that  the  world  is  growing  older, 
but  not  wiser ;  that  nothing  may  be  learned 
from  the  experience  of  others  ;  that  men  are 
not  more  successful  in  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness now,  than  they  were  in  the  remotest 
periods  of  recorded  history.  They  contend 
that  man  has  always  been  the  sport  of  acci- 
dent, the  slave  of  his  passions  and  the  creature 
of  circumstances.  They  insist  upon  the  ineffi- 
cacy  of  the  lights  of  reason,  philosophy,  and 
religion,  judging  from  the  little  illumination 
which  they  have  shed,  hitherto,  upon  the 
paths  of  life. 

They  might,  on  the  same  ground,  and  on 
the  same  reasoning,  declaim  against  every 
attempt,  in  any  form,  to  render  the  world 
wiser,  happier,  and  better.  They  might,  with 
equal  propriety,  say  silence  the  press,  close 
the  pulpit,  cease  from  parental  discipline, 
moral  suasion,  and  the  training  of  education. 
The  world  will  go  on  as  before,  do  what  you 
will !  The  absurdity  of  such  language  is  ap- 
parent. Shall  we  do  nothing,  because  we 
cannot  do  everything  ?  Shall  the  laws  be 
abolished  because  they  do  not  entirely  pre- 
vent crime  ?  As  a  writer  has  said  :  "  Because 
the  million  float  towards  the  invisible  future 
without  any  pole  star,  or  guided  only  by  the 
presumption  of  general  opinion,  is  it  proof 


Systematic  pursuit  of  f>appines5.         3 

conclusive  that  none  have  been  rendered  hap- 
pier in  consequence  of  having  followed  wiser 
guidance,  and  pursued  happiness  by  system  ? 

Such  is  the  belief  of  many  people.  Others, 
who  are  wiser,  think  that  such  views  are  er- 
roneous ;  that  much  suffering  may  be  avoided, 
and  that  everyday  we  meet  with  visible  proofs 
that  men  may  learn  how  to  be  happy  ;  that 
we  are  to  blame  for  the  greater  portion  of 
human  suffering,  because  of  our  ignorance 
and  mistaken  views,  and  that  it  is  an  unneces- 
sary mixture  of  bitterness  in  the  cup  of  human 
life,  arid  one  writer  goes  so  far  as  to  say :  "  I 
firmly  believe  that  the  greater  number  of 
deaths,  instead  of  being  the  result  of  specific 
diseases,  to  which  they  are  attributed,  are 
really  caused  by  a  series  of  imperceptible 
malign  influences,  springing  from  corroding 
cares,  griefs,  and  disappointments.  To  say 
that  more  than  half  of  the  human  race  die  of 
sorrow,  and  a  broken  heart,  or  in  some  way 
fall  victims  to  their  passions,  may  seem  like 
advancing  a  revolting  doctrine;  but  it  is, 
nevertheless,  in  my  mind,  a  simple  truth." 

"We  do  not  see  the  operations  of  grief 
upon  some  one  or  all  the  countless  frail  and 
delicate  constituents  of  human  life.  But  if 
physiology  could  look  through  the  infinitely 
complicated  web  of  our  structure  with  the 


4         Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappiness. 

power  of  the  solar  microscope,  it  would  be- 
hold every  chagrin  searing  some  nerve,  para- 
lyzing the  action  of  some  organ,  or  closing 
some  capillary ;  and  that  every  sigh  draws  its 
drop  of  life  blood  from  the  heart.  Nature  is 
slow  in  resenting  her  injuries ;  but  the  mem- 
ory of  them  is  indelibly  impressed,  and  treas- 
ured up  for  a  late,  but  certain  revenge. 
Nervousness,  lowness  of  spirits,  headache, 
and  all  the  countless  train  of  morbid  and 
deranged  corporeal  and  mental  action, 
are,  at  once,  the  cause  and  the  effect  of 
sorrow  and  anxiety,  increased  by  a  constant 
series  of  action  and  reaction.  Thought 
and  care  become  impressed  upon  the 
brow.  The  bland  essence  of  cheerfulness 
evaporates.  The  head  becomes  shorn  of  its 
locks ;  and  the  frosts  of  winter  gather  on  the 
temple.  These  concurrent  influences  silently 
sap  the  stamina  of  life ;  until,  aided  by  some 
adventitious  circumstance,  which  we  call  cold, 
fever,  epidemic,  dyspepsia — death  lays  his 
hand  upon  the  frame  that  by  the  sorrows 
and  cares  of  life  was  prepared  for  his  dread 
office.  The  bills  of  mortality  assign  a  name 
to  the  mortal  disease  different  from  the  true 
one. 

"  Cheerfulness   and  equanimity  are    about 
the  only  traits  that  have  invariably  marked 


Systematic  pursuit  of  fjappiness.         5 

tJie  life  of  those  who  Jiave  lived  to  extreme  old 
age.  Nothing  is  more  clearly  settled  by  expe- 
rience tJian  that  grief  acts  as  a  sltnu  poison, 
iiot  only  in  the  immediate  infliction  of  pain, 
but  in  gradually  impairing  the  powers  of  life, 
and  in  subtracting  from  the  sum  of  our  days" 

If,  then,  by  any  process  of  instruction,  dis- 
cipline, and  mental  force,  we  can  influence 
our  circumstances,  banish  grief  and  create 
cheerfulness,  we  can,  in  the  same  degree,  re- 
duce rules  for  the  pursuit  of  happiness  to  a 
system,  and  make  that  system  a  matter  of 
science.  Can  we  not  do  this?  The  very 
million  who  deride  the  idea  of  seeking  for 
enjoyment  through  the  medium  of  instruc- 
tion, unconsciously  exercise  the  power  in 
question  to  a  certain  extent,  though  not  to 
the  extent  of  which  they  are  capable.  All 
those  wise  individuals  who  have  travelled 
with  equanimity  and  cheerfulness  through 
the  diversified  scenes  of  life,  making  the 
most  of  its  good,  and  the  least  of  its  evils, 
bear  a  general  testimony  to  the  truth  of  this 
act.  We  find  in  them  a  conviction  that 
they  had  such  power,  and  a  force  of  charac- 
ter that  enabled  them  to  act  according  to 
their  convictions. 

No  matter  how  many  of  the  pleasures  of 
life  we  enjoy,  or  how  rich  and  elevated  we 


6         Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappiness. 

may  be,  a  nameless  something  is  always 
wanting  to  our  imperfect  fortune.  All  de- 
sire money.  But  "  a  wise  man  will  desire  no 
more  than  he  may  get  justly,  use  soberly, 
distribute  cheerfully,  and  leave  contentedly." 

Our  most  common  sufferings  come  from 
desires  which  surpass  our  ability  to  satisfy 
them.  An  ancient  writer  relates  that  Oram- 
azes  appeared  to  Usbeck,  the  virtuous,  and 
said  :  "  Form  a  wish  and  I  will  grant  it." 
The  sage  replied  :  "  Source  of  light,  I  only 
wish  to  limit  my  desires  by  those  things 
which  nature  has  rendered  indispensable." 

It  should  not  be  supposed,  however,  that 
a  negative  happiness,  a  condition  exempt 
from  suffering,  is  the  most  fortunate  condi- 
tion to  which  we  may  aspire.  The  advo- 
cates for  this  gloomy  system  have  but  poorly 
studied  the  nature  of  man.  If  he  is  mis- 
taken in  desiring  positive  enjoyments,  if  his 
highest  aim.  ought  to  be,  to  live  free  from 
pain,  the  caves  of  the  forest  are  best  suited 
to  him  for  a  dwelling-place. 

"  Bounded  by  the  present,  animals  sleep, 
eat,  procreate,  live  without  inquietude,  and 
die  without  regret ;  and  this  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  negative  happiness.  Man,  it  is  true, 
loses  himself  in  vain  projects.  His  long  re- 
membrances, his  keen  foresight,  create  him 


Systematic  pursuit  of  fjapginess.         7 

suffering  in  the  past  and  the  future.  His 
imagination  brings  forth  errors,  his  liberty 
crimes.  But  the  abuse  of  his  faculties  does 
not  disprove  their  excellence.  Let  him  con- 
secrate to  directing  them  aright  that  time 
which  he  has  hitherto  lost  in  mourning  over 
their  aberrations,  and  he  will  have  reason  to 
be  grateful  to  the  Creator  for  having  given 
him  the  most  exalted  rank  among  sublunary 
beings.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  chooses 
to  abandon  that  rank,  of  which  he  ought  to 
be  proud,  he  will  degrade  his  immortal  na- 
ture at  his  own  cost ;  and  will  only  add  to 
his  other  evils  the  shame  of  wishing  to  ren- 
der himself  vile." 

The  absence  of  suffering  and  a  negative 
happiness  are  not  sufficient  for  man.  His 
noble  faculties  refuse  the  repose  of  indiffer- 
ence. 

Created  to  aspire  to  whatever  may  be  an 
element  of  enjoyment,  let  him  cherish  de- 
sires, if  they  do  not  lead  him  beyond  the 
bounds  prescribed  by  Christianity. 

We  should  beware,  however,  of  aspiring 
after  perfect  happiness.  The  object  of  the 
art  of  happiness  is  to  indicate  desirable  situ- 
ations, to  guide  us  towards  them  when  they 
offer,  and  to  remove  the  vexations  of  life. 
By  far  the  greater  part  of  mankind  might 


8         Systematic  fmreult  of  Ibappfness. 

exist  in  comfort.  They  fail  of  this  in  aiming 
at  impracticable  amelioration  of  their  con- 
dition. It  is  the  essence  of  folly  to  contem- 
plate only  the  dark  side  of  our  lives,  and  it 
is  a  mark  of  strength  and  wisdom  rather  to 
exaggerate  our  advantages  when  indulging 
in  self-communion  upon  the  state  of  our 
affairs. 

"  The  habit  of  looking  on  the  best  side  of 
every  event  is  worth  more  than  one  thousand 
pounds  a  year,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  and  it  is 
true.  A  propensity  to  hope  and  joy  is  bet- 
ter than  wealth,  but  one  to  fear  and  sorrow 
is  worse  than  poverty. 

We  should  carefully  ascertain  what  things 
are  necessary  to  our  well-being,  and  dis- 
cipline all  our  desires  towards  their  acquisi- 
tion. 

In  enumerating  the  essentials  of  happiness, 
without  the  spirit  of  system,  the  author 
would  mention  cheerfulness,  independence, 
health,  competence,  friendship,  and  knowl- 
edge. 

In  this  country  there  are  few  who  cannot 
reasonably  hope  to  acquire  them,  and  if  they 
fail  to  do  so,  the  want  may  be  often  traced 
to  some  neglect  of  their  own.  Health,  of 
course,  is  not  always  within  our  power,  for 
we  may  have  inherited  a  constitution  vitiated 


Systematic  pursuit  of  fjappiness.         9 

and  unhealthy,  or  we  may  lose  it  by  some 
accident,  or  by  the  influence  of  causes  be- 
yond our  control.  But  for  one  person  who 
is  afflicted  with  want  of  health,  at  least  a 
hundred  are  so  from  causes  which  they  may 
trace  to  their  own  mismanagement.  Any 
physician  of  reputation  will  endorse  this 
statement. 

The  things  indispensable  to  happiness  are 
far  more  subject  to  our  command  than  we 
sometimes  imagine.  Undoubtedly  happiness 
pursued  upon  philosophical  principles  would 
free  us  from  half  our  sorrows  here  below. 

It  is  a  mistake,  too,  to  suppose  that  the 
art  of  happiness  has  never  been  taught.  The 
wise  men  of  Greece  investigated  the  science 
of  happiness  as  eloquently  and  profoundly 
as  they  studied  the  other  sciences,  and  they 
wisely  held  the  latter  in  estimation  only  so 
far  as  they  were  subservient  to  the  former. 
And  in  all  succeeding  ages  there  have  been 
a  few  men  who  have  regarded  all  their  facul- 
ties, their  advantages  of  nature  and  fortune, 
their  studies  and  acquirements,  not  as  ends 
in  themselves,  but  as  means  conducive  to 
the  right  pursuit  of  happiness. 

The  imaginary  ills  of  life  are  more  trouble- 
some than  those  which  are  real.  One  of  the 
chief  secrets  of  happiness  lies  in  not  suffering 


io       Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappfuess. 

trifles  to  vex  us,  and  in  prudently  cultivating 
the  small  pleasures  of  life,  since  great  ones 
are  so  rare. 

Our  Creator,  being  infinitely  good,  as  well 
as  wise,  must  have  created  man  to  be  happy. 
"  Yet  the  earth  resounds  with  the  complaints 
of  the  unhappy,  although  they  are  encom- 
passed with  the  means  of  enjoyment,  of 
which  they  appear  to  know  neither  the  value 
nor  the  use.  They  resemble  the  shipwrecked 
mariner,  on  a  desert  isle,  surrounded  with 
fruits,  of  the  flavors  and  properties  of  which 
he  is  ignorant,  as  he  is  doubtful  whether 
they  offer  aliment  or  poison." 

Says  the  same  writer :  "  I  was  early  impelled 
to  investigate  the  character  and  motives  of 
the  crowd  around  me,  eagerly  rushing  for- 
ward in  pursuit  of  happiness.  I  soon  noted 
multitudes  relinquishing  the  chase  in  indo- 
lent despondency.  They  affirmed  to  me 
that  they  no  longer  believed  in  the  existence 
of  happiness.  I  felt  an  insatiate  craving, 
and  saw  life  through  the  illusive  coloring  of 
youth.  Unwilling  to  resign  my  hopes,  I  in- 
quired of  others,  who  seemed  possessed  of 
greater  strength  of  mind,  and  more  weight 
of  character,  if  they  could  guide  me  to  the 
place  of  happiness  ?  Some  answered  with  an 
ill-concealed  smile  of  derision,  and  others 


Systematic  pursuit  of  1>appiness.        n 


with  bitterness.  They  declared  that  in  their 
view  the  pleasures  of  life  were  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  its  pains.  Because  they 
were  disappointed  and  discouraged,  they 
deemed  that  their  superior  wisdom  had  en- 
abled them  to  strip  off  the  disguises  of  life, 
and  contemplate  it  with  sullen  resignation. 

"  I  remarked  others  in  high  places  whose 
restless  activity  and  brilliance  dazzled  the 
multitude  and  inspired  envy.  I  eagerly 
asked  of  them  the  secret  of  happiness.  Too 
proud  and  self-satisfied  to  dissemble,  they 
made  little  effort  to  conceal  their  principles. 
I  saw  their  hearts  contracted  by  the  vileness 
of  egotism,  and  devoured  with  measureless 
ambition.  A  faithful  scrutiny,  which  pene- 
trated beyond  their  dazzling  exterior,  showed 
me  the  righteous  reaction  of  their  principles, 
and  convinced  me  that  they  suffered  accord- 
ing to  their  deserts.  Weary  and  disheart- 
ened, I  left  them,  and  repaired  to  the  class 
of  stern  and  austere  moralists.  They  repre- 
sented the  world  to  me  as  a  melancholy  and 
mysterious  valley,  through  which  the  so- 
journer  passes,  groaning  on  his  way  to  the 
grave.  Their  doctrines  inspired  me  at  once 
with  sadness  and  terror.  I  soon  resumed 
the  elastic  confidence  of  youth,  and  replied: 
'  I  will  never  believe  that  the  Author  of  my 


12        Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappfness. 


being,  who  has  imaged  in  my  heart  such  pure 
and  tranquil  pleasures,  who  has  rendered  me 
capable  of  chaste  love,  and  of  friendship  in 
its  sanctity,  who  has  formed  us  innocent  be- 
fore we  could  practise  virtue,  and  who  has 
connected  the  salutary  bitterness  of  repent- 
ance with  errors,  has  unalterably  willed  our 
misery.' 

"  Thence  I  passed  to  the  opposite  extreme, 
and  accosted  a  gay  and  reckless  throng, 
whose  deportment  showed  that  they  had 
found  the  object  of  my  pursuit.  I  discov- 
ered them  to  be  fickle  by  character,  and 
vacillating  from  indifference.  They  had  only 
escaped  the  errors  of  the  moralists,  by  sub- 
stituting, in  place  of  their  austere  maxims, 
enjoyments  without  any  regard  to  conse- 
quences. I  asked  them  to  point  me  to 
happiness.  Without  comprehending  the 
import  of  my  question,  they  offered  me  par- 
ticipation in  their  pleasures.  But  I  saw 
them  prodigal  of  life,  dissipating  years  in  a 
few  days,  and  reserving  the  remnant  of  their 
existence  for  unavailing  repentance. 

"  In  view  of  so  many  observations,  I  aban- 
doned the  idea  of  guiding  my  researches  by 
the  counsels  of  others ;  and  began  to  inquire 
for  the  secret  in  my  own  bosom.  I  heard 
the  multitude  around  me  complaining,  in 


Systematic  pursuit  of  t>appiness.        13 


disappointment  and  discouragement.  ,1  re- 
solved that  I  would  not  commence  the 
pursuit  of  happiness  by  seriously  following  in 
their  beaten  path.  I  determined  to  reflect, 
and  patiently  investigate  a  question  of  so 
much  moment.  I  detected  at  once  the  error 
of  the  common  impression,  that  pleasure  and 
happiness  are  the  same.  The  former,  fickle 
and  fleeting,  assumes  forms  as  various  as 
human  caprice;  and  its  most  attractive 
charm  is  novelty.  The  object  which  gives 
it  birth  to-day,  ceases  to  please,  or  inspires 
disgust  to-morrow.  The  perception  of  hap- 
piness is  not  thus  changeable  and  transient. 
It  creates  the  consciousness  of  an  existence 
so  tranquil  and  satisfying,  that  the  longer  we 
experience  it  the  more  we  desire  to  prolong 
its  duration." 

Another  mistaken  though  common  im- 
pression is,  that  the  more  profoundly  we 
reflect,  and  make  the  pursuit  of  happiness  a 
study,  the  less  we  shall  be  likely  to  enjoy. 
This  is  an  error  not  only  in  regard  to  happi- 
ness, but  even  pleasure.  If  it  be  innocent 
and  exempt  from  danger,  to  analyze  it,  and 
reason  upon  it,  so  far  from  diminishing,  pro- 
longs the  delight,  and  renders  it  higher. 
Without  reflection  we  only  skim  its  surface ; 
we  do  not  penetrate,  and  enjoy  it. 


14        Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappiness. 


Let  us  observe  the  few  who  have  acquired 
the  wisdom  to  enjoy  that  existence,  which 
the  multitude  waste.  In  their  festal  unions 
of  friendship,  let  us  mark  the  development 
of  their  desire  to  multiply  the  happy  mo- 
ments of  life.  By  what  ingenious  and  pleas- 
ant discussions  do  they  heighten  the  charms 
of  their  conditions?  With  what  delicacy  of 
tact  do  they  analyze  their  enjoyments,  and 
taste  them  with  a  more  prolonged  and  ex- 
quisite relish  ?  With  what  skill  do  they 
discipline  themselves  sometimes  to  efface  the 
images  of  the  future,  that  nothing  may  em- 
bitter or  distract  their  relish  of  the  present ; 
and  sometimes  to  invoke  remembrances  and 
hopes,  to  impart  to  it  still  brighter  embel- 
lishments? 

Contrary  to  the  prevalent  impression,  I 
therefore  deem  that,  to  reflect  much  upon  it, 
is  one  of  the  wisest  means  in  the  pursuit  of 
happiness.  The  first  analysis  of  reflection,  it 
is  true,  dispels  the  charm  with  which  youth 
invests  existence.  It  forces  the  conviction 
upon  us,  that  the  pleasures  of  life  are  less 
durable,  and  its  forms  more  numerous  and 
prolonged,  than  we  had  anticipated.  The 
first  result  of  the  process  is  discouragement. 
But,  as  we  continue  to  reflect,  objects  change 
their  aspect  a  second  time.  The  evils  which 


Systematic  pursuit  of  1>appmess.        15 


at  first  glance  seemed  so  formidable,  lose  a 
portion  of  their  terrific  semblance ;  and  the 
fleeting  pleasures  of  existence  receive  new 
attractions  from  their  analogy  to  human 
weakness. 

The  motto  of  the  Greek  philosopher, 
"  know  thyself,"  was  an  exceedingly  wise  one. 
It  is  in  converse  with  ourselves  that  we  give 
a  right  direction  to  the  mind,  elevation  to 
the  soul,  and  gentleness  and  firmness  to  the 
character. 

We  should  look  upon  life  as  a  book  in 
which  we  read  a  page  every  day.  Every  in- 
structive incident  that  passes  should  be 
noted. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  the  wise  and  good  phi- 
losopher, took  great  delight  in  converse  with 
himself ;  and  learned  to  find  enjoyment  in 
the  present  by  extracting  from  the  past 
lessons  for  the  future. 

No  person  of  sensibility  and  sense  can  fail 
to  be  affected  by  the  account  which  he  gives 
of  all  those  persons  whose  teachings  had  con- 
curred to  form  his  character  and  manners. 
He  says :  "  I  learned  of  my  grandfather, 
Verus,  to  be  gentle  and  complaisant. 

"  The  reputation  which  my  father  left,  and 
the  memory  of  his  good  actions  which  has 
been  preserved,  taught  me  modesty.  My 


i6       systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappiness. 


mother  formed  me  to  piety,  taught  me  to  be 
liberal,  and  not  even  to  meditate,  still  less,  to 
do  a  wrong. 

"  I  owe  it  to  my  governor  that  I  am  patient 
of  labor,  indulge  few  wants,  know  how  to 
work  with  my  own  hands,  meddle  with  no 
business  that  does  not  concern  me,  and  give 
no  encouragement  to  informers. 

"  Diognetus  taught  me  not  to  be  amused 
with  frivolities,  to  yield  no  credit  to  charla- 
tans and  enchanters,  and  to  have  no  faith  in 
conjurations,  demons,  and  superstitions  of 
that  sort.  I  learned  of  him  to  permit  every 
one  to  speak  to  me  with  entire  freedom, 
and  to  apply  myself  wholly  to  philosophy. 

"  Rusticus  made  me  perceive  that  I  needed 
to  correct  my  manners,  that  I  ought  to  avoid 
the  pride  of  the  sophists,  and  not  use  effort 
to  inspire  the  people  with  admiration  of  my 
patience  and  austerity  of  life ;  to  be  always 
ready  to  pardon  those  who  had  offended  me, 
and  to  receive  them  kindly  whenever  they 
were  disposed  to  resume  their  former  inter- 
course. 

"  I  learned  of  Appollonius  to  be  at  the 
same  time  frank  and  firm  in  my  designs,  to 
follow  no  guide  but  my  reason,  even  in  the 
smallest  matters,  and  to  be  always  composed, 
even  under  the  most  acute  sufferings.  By 


Systematic  pursuit  of  fjappfness.        17 

his  example,  I  was  instructed  that  it  is  possi- 
ble to  be  at  once  severe  and  gentle. 

"  Sextus  taught  me  to  govern  my  house  as 
a  good  father  ;  to  preserve  a  simple  gravity 
without  affectation  ;  to  attempt  to  divine  and 
anticipate  the  wishes  and  necessities  of  my 
friends ;  to  endure  with  calmness  and 
patience,  the  ignorant  and  presumptuous 
who  speak  without  thinking  what  they  say  ; 
and  to  sustain  relations  of  kindness  with 
all. 

"  I  learned  from  Alexander,  the  gram- 
marian, in  disputation  to  use  no  injurious 
words  in  reply  to  my  antagonist. 

"  Pronto  taught  me  to  know  that  kings 
are  surrounded  by  the  envious,  by  knaves 
and  hypocrites. 

"  Alexander,  the  Platonist,  instructed  me 
never  to  say  or  to  write  to  any  person  inter- 
ceding for  my  interest,  '  I  have  had  no  time 
to  attend  to  your  affairs,'  nor  to  allege  as  an 
excuse,  '  I  have  been  overwhelmed  with 
business,'  but  to  be  always  prompt  to  render 
all  those  good  offices  which  the  bands  of 
society  demand. 

"  I  owe  to  my  brother,  Severus,  the  love 
which  I  have  for  truth  and  justice.  From 
him  I  derived  the  desire  to  govern  my  states 
by  equal  laws,  and  to  reign  in  such  a  manner 


is        Systematic  pursuit  ot  Dappiuess. 


as  that  my  subjects  might  possess  perfect  lib- 
erty. 

"  I  thank  the  Divinity  for  having  given  me 
virtuous  ancestors,  a  good  father,  a  good 
mother,  good  preceptors  and  good  friends ; 
in  a  word,  all  the  good  things  I  could  have 
desired.  In  the  language  of  an  able  writer: 

"  'A  crowd  of  such  useful  thoughts  cannot 
but  flow  from  such  self-converse.  Hold 
every  day  one  of  these  solitary  conversations 
with  yourself.  This  is  the  way  in  which  to 
attain  the  highest  relish  of  existence ;  and, 
if  I  may  so  say,  to  cast  anchor  in  the  river  of 
life.'  " 

Throughout  the  whole  course  of  his  life, 
the  wise  and  good  Benjamin  Franklin,  whom 
Americans  will  always  delight  to  honor, 
made  it  a  practice  to  commune  with  himself 
daily.  In  his  charming  Autobiography  he 
tells  us  how  he  endeavored  to  arrive  at  moral 
perfection.  He  says : 

"  It  was  about  this  time  I  conceived  the 
bold  and  arduous  project  of  arriving  at  moral 
perfection.  I  wished  to  live  without  com- 
mitting any  fault  at  any  time,  and  to  con- 
quer all  that  either  natural  inclination, 
custom,  or  company,  might  lead  me  into. 
As  I  knew,  or  thought  I  knew,  what  was 
right  and  wrong,  I  did  not  see  why  I  might 


Systematic  pursuit  of  1>appiness.        19 


not  always  do  the  one  and  avoid  the  other. 
But  I  soon  found  I  had  undertaken  a  task  of 
more  difficulty  than  I  had  imagined.  While 
my  attention  was  taken  up,  and  care  em- 
ployed in  guarding  against  one  fault,  I  was 
often  surprised  by  another ;  habit  took  the 
advantage  of  inattention ;  inclination  was 
sometimes  too  strong  for  reason.  I  con- 
cluded, at  length,  that  the  mere  speculative 
conviction,  that  it  was  our  interest  to  be 
completely  virtuous,  was  not  sufficient  to 
prevent  our  slipping ;  and  that  the  contrary 
habits  must  be  broken,  and  good  ones  ac- 
quired and  established,  before  we  can  have 
any  dependence  on  a  steady,  uniform  recti- 
tude of  conduct.  For  this  purpose  I  there- 
fore tried  the  following  method. 

"  In  the  various  enumerations  of  the  moral 
virtues  I  had  met  with  in  my  reading,  I 
found  the  catalogue  more  or  less  numerous, 
as  different  writers  included  more  or  fewer 
ideas  under  the  same  name.  Temperance^  for 
example,  was  by  some  confined  to  eating 
and  drinking;  while  by  others  it  was  ex- 
tended to  mean  the  moderating  every  other 
pleasure,  appetite,  inclination,  or  passion, 
bodily  or  mentally,  even  to  our  avarice  and 
ambition.  I  proposed  to  myself,  for  the  sake 
of  clearness,  to  use  rather  more  names,  with 


20       Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibapptness. 


fewer  ideas  annexed  to  each,  than  a  few 
names  with  more  ideas ;  and  I  included  un- 
der thirteen  names  of  virtues,  all  that  at  that 
time  occurred  to  me  as  necessary  or  desira- 
ble ;  and  annexed  to  each  a  short  precept, 
which  fully  expressed  the  extent  I  gave  to 
its  meaning. 

"  The  names  of  virtues,  with  their  precepts, 
were: 

"  i.  TEMPERANCE. — Eat  not  to  dullness  ; 
drink  not  to  elevation. 

"  2.  SILENCE. — Speak  not  but  what  may 
benefit  others  or  yourself ;  avoid  trifling  con- 
versation. 

"  3.  ORDER. — Let  all  your  things  have 
their  places ;  let  each  part  of  your  business 
have  its  time. 

"4.  RESOLUTION. — Resolve  to  perform 
what  you  ought ;  perform  without  fail  what 
you  resolve. 

"  5.  FRUGALITY. — Make  no  expense  but 
to  do  good  to  others  or  yourself ;  that  is, 
waste  nothing. 

"  6.  INDUSTRY. — Lose  no  time;  be  always 
employed  in  something  useful ;  cut  off  all 
unnecessary  actions. 

"  7.  SINCERITY.— Use  no  hurtful  deceit ; 
think  innocently  and  justly ;  and,  if  you 
speak,  speak  accordingly. 


Systematic  pursuit  of  tmppiness.        21 

"  8.  JUSTICE. — Wrong  none  by  doing  in- 
juries, or  omitting  the  benefits  that  are  your 
duty. 

"  9.  MODERATION. — Avoid  extremes  ;  for- 
bear resenting  injuries,  so  much  as  you  think 
they  deserve. 

"  10.  CLEANLINESS. — Tolerate  no  unclean- 
liness  in  body,  clothes,  or  habitation. 

"ii.  TRANQUILLITY. — Be  not  disturbed 
at  trifles,  or  at  accidents  common  or  un- 
avoidable. 

"  12.  CHASTITY 

"  13.  HUMILITY.— Imitate  Jesus  and  Soc- 
rates. 

"My  intention  being  to  acquire  the  habitude 
of  all  these  virtues,  I  judged  it  would  be  well 
not  to  distract  my  attention  by  attempting 
the  whole  at  once,  but  to  fix  it  on  one  of 
them  at  a  time  ;  and  when  I  should  be  master 
of  that,  then  to  proceed  to  another ;  and  so 
on,  until  I  should  have  gone  on  through  the 
thirteen.  And,  as  the  previous  acquisition 
of  some  might  facilitate  the  acquisition  of  cer- 
tain others,  I  arranged  them  with  that  view,  as 
they  stand  above.  Temperance  first,  as  it 
tends  to  procure  that  coolness  and  clearness 
of  head  which  is  so  necessary,  where  constant 
vigilance  was  to  be  kept  up,  and  a  guard 
maintained  against  the  unremitting  attrac- 


22        Systematic  pursuit  of  f)appfnes3. 


tion  of  ancient  habits  and  the  force  of  per- 
petual temptations.  This  being  acquired 
and  established,  Silence  would  be  more  easy  ; 
and  my  desire  being  to  gain  knowledge,  at 
the  same  time  that  I  improved  in  virtue,  and 
considering  that  in  conversation  it  was  ob- 
tained rather  by  the  use  of  the  ear  than  of 
the  tongue,  and  therefore  wishing  to  break  a 
habit  I  was  getting  into  of  prattling,  punning, 
and  jesting,  which  only  made  me  acceptable 
to  trifling  company,  I  gave  Silence  the  second 
place.  This  and  the  next,  Order,  I  expected 
would  allow-  me  more  time  for  attending  to 
my  project  and  my  studies.  Resolution,  once 
become  habitual,  would  keep  me  firm  in  my 
endeavors  to  obtain  all  the  subsequent  vir- 
tues ;  Frugality  and  Industry  relieving  me 
from  any  remaining  debt,  and  producing 
affluence  and  independence,  would  make 
more  easy  the  practice  of  Sincerity  and  Jus- 
tice, etc.,  etc. 

"  Conceiving,  then,  .  .  .  that  daily  examina- 
tion would  be  necessary,  I  contrived  the 
following  method  for  conducting  that  ex- 
amination. 

"  I  made  a  little  book,  in  which  I  allotted 
a  page  for  each  of  the  virtues.  I  ruled  each 
page  with  red  ink,  so  as  to  have  seven 
columns,  one  for  each  day  of  the  week,  mark- 


Systematic  pursuit  of  toappiness.        23 

ing  each  column  with  a  letter  for  the  day. 
I  crossed  these  columns  with  thirteen  red 
lines,  marking  the  beginning  of  each  line 

FORM  OF  THE  PAGES. 

TEMPERANCE. 
Eat  not  to  dullness;  drink  not  to  dan&m. 


Sun.       M.         T.         W.       Th.         F. 


Tern. 


Oid. 


: 


Fni. 


Ind. 


-:  .. 


Mod. 


Clea. 


Tran. 


Horn. 


with  the  first  letter  of  one  of  the  virtues ;  on 
which  line  and  in  its  proper  column,  I  might 
mark,  by  a  little  black  spot,  every  fault  I 


24        Systematic  pursuit  of 


found  upon  examination  to  have  been  com- 
mitted respecting  that  virtue,  upon  that 
day. 

"  I  determined  to  give  a  week's  strict  atten- 
tion to  each  of  the  virtues  successively. 
Thus,  in  the  first  week,  my  great  guard  was 
to  avoid  even  the  least  offence  against  Tem- 
perance ;  leaving  other  virtues  to  their  or- 
dinary chance,  only  marking  every  evening 
the  faults  of  the  day.  Thus,  if  in  the  first 
week  I  could  keep  my  first  line,  marked  T, 
clear  of  spots,  I  supposed  the  habit  of  that 
virtue  so  much  strengthened,  and  its  opposite 
weakened,  that  I  might  venture  extending 
my  attention  to  include  the  next,  and  for  the 
following  week  keep  both  lines  clear  of  spots. 
Proceeding  thus  to  the  last,  I  could  get 
through  a  course  complete  in  thirteen  weeks, 
and  four  courses  in  a  year.  And  like  him, 
who,  having  a  garden  to  weed,  does  not 
attempt  to  eradicate  all  the  bad  herbs  at 
once,  which  would  exceed  his  reach  and  his 
strength,  but  works  on  one  of  the  beds  at  a 
time,  and,  having  accomplished  the  first,  pro- 
ceeds to  the  second  ;  so  I  should  have,  I 
hoped,  the  encouraging  pleasure  of  seeing  on 
my  pages  the  progress  made  in  virtue,  by 
clearing  successively  my  lines  of  their  spots ; 
till  in  the  end,  by  a  number  of  courses,  I 


Systematic  pursuit  of  f>appiness.        25 

should  be  happy  in  viewing  a  clean  book, 
after  a  thirteen  weeks'  daily  examination." 

That  Franklin  attached  great  importance 
to  this  plan,  will  be  seen  from  what  he  says 
in  the  following  passage : 

"  //  may  be  well  my  posterity  sJiould  be  in- 
formed, tJiat  to  this  little  artifice,  with  tJie 
blessing  of  God,  tJteir  ancestor  owed  tJu  con- 
stant felicity  of  his  life,  down  to  his  se^'enty- 
ninth  year,  in  which  this  is  written.  What 
reverses  may  attend  the  remainder  is  in  the 
hand  of  Providence ;  but,  if  they  arrive,  the 
reflection  on  past  happiness  enjoyed  ought 
to  help  his  bearing  them  with  more  resigna- 
tion. To  Temperance  he  ascribes  his  long- 
continued  health,  and  what  is  still  left  to  him 
of  a  good  constitution ;  to  Industry  and 
Frugality  the  early  easiness  of  his  circum- 
stances and  acquisition  of  his  fortune,  with 
all  that  knowledge  that  enabled  him  to  be  a 
useful  citizen,  and  obtained  for  him  some 
degree  of  reputation  among  the  learned  ;  to 
Sincerity  and  Justice,  the  confidence  of  his 
country,  and  the  honorable  employs  it  con- 
ferred upon  him  ;  and  to  the  joint  influence 
of  the  whole  mass  of  the  virtues,  even  in  the 
imperfect  state  he  was  able  to  acquire  them, 
all  that  evenness  of  temper,  and  that  cheer- 
fulness in  conversation,  which  makes  his 


26       Systematic  pursuit  of  Ibappiness. 

company  still  sought  for,  and  agreeable 
even  to  his  young  acquaintance.  I  hope, 
therefore,  that  some  of  my  descendants 
may  follow  the  example  and  reap  the 
benefit." 


CHAPTER  II. 

HAPPINESS  DERIVED  FROM  BOOKS. 

The  happiness  derived  from  good  books, 
to  the  intelligent,  is  incalculably  great.  Gib- 
bon said  that  he  would  not  exchange  his  love 
of  books  for  "  the  wealth  of  the  Indies." 

Wisdom  can  only  be  gained  by  the  dili- 
gent study  of  books,  and  Solomon,  the  wisest 
of  men,  expressly  promises  long  life,  riches, 
and  honor  to  the  man  who  finds  her,  and  he 
sings  her  praises  in  language  which  cannot 
be  repeated  too  often  : 

"  Happy  is  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom, 
And  the  man  that  getteth  understanding  : 
For  the  merchandise  of  it  is  better  than  silver, 
And  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold. 
She  is  more  precious  than  rubies  ; 
And  all  the  things  thou  canst  desire  are  not  to  be 

compared  unto  her. 
Length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand, 
And  in  her  left  hand  riches  and  honor. 
Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness. 
And  all  her  paths  are  peace" 
27 


23         fjappiness  Berfvefc  from  JBoofcs. 

Here  we  have  an  epitome  of  the  art  of 
living  long  and  happily,  given  us  by  the  wis- 
est of  men. 

In  the  unlearned  man  the  intellectual  fac- 
ulties sleep.  When  his  appetites  are  satisfied, 
he  sees  neither  pleasures  to  desire,  nor  pains 
to  fear.  He  is  only  conversant  with  the 
pleasures  of  the  senses.  Of  the  pleasures  of 
the  imagination,  or  those  of  the  intellect,  he 
neither  knows  nor  cares  nothing. 

This  negative  happiness  would  bring  deso- 
lation to  the  heart  of  an  educated  man. 

Every  day  he  experiences  a  new  craving, 
which  occupation,  grave  or  pleasant,  but  rap- 
idly changed  and  renewed  can  alone  appease. 

Ennui,  after  vice,  is  the  greatest  enemy  to 
happiness.  A  writer  says  :  "  Some  escape  it 
without  seeming  calculation.  My  neighbor 
every  morning  turns  over  twenty  gazettes, 
the  state  articles  of  which  are  copied  the  one 
from  the  other.  Economizing  the  pleasure 
of  this  reading,  and  gravely  reposing  in  the 
intervals,  he  communicates,  sometimes  with 
an  oracular  tone,  sometimes  with  a  modest 
reserve,  his  reflections  to  those  who  surround 
him  ;  and,  at  length,  leaves  the  reading-room 
with  the  importance  of  one  who  feels  that 
he  has  discharged  a  debt  to  society." 

A  man  may  date  defiance  to  the  fear  of  the 


Dappiness  BerfveD  from  JSoofcs.         29 

weight  of  time  from  the  moment  in  which  he 
feels  sincere  pleasure  in  cultivating  his  mind. 
He  has  the  magic  key  which  unlocks  the  ex- 
haustless  treasury  of  happiness.  He  may 
then  live  in  the  age  and  country  which  he 
prefers  without  regard  to  time  and  space. 
He  questions,  and  receives  satisfactory  an- 
swers, from  the  wise  and  good  of  all  ages 
and  countries. 

In  the  republic  of  letters  men  of  genius 
are  chiefs.  Every  man  stands  upon  his  merit, 
and  receives  his  just  meed  of  praise.  As  a 
reward  for  their  toils  in  behalf  of  their  kind, 
they  have  pleasures  reserved  for  themselves 
alone.  What  a  sublime  sentiment  must  have 
elevated  the  spirit  of  Newton  when  a  part  of 
the  mysterious  laws  of  the  universe  first 
dawned  on  his  mind  ! 

Books  are  the  legacies  which  men  of  talent 
bequeath  to  mankind,  to  be  handed  down 
from  generation  to  generation,  as  rich  gifts 
to  those  unborn. 

Books  of  a  scientific  character  add  greatly 
to  the  interest  and  variety  of  life.  It  is  a 
great  mistake  to  suppose  the  sciences  dry, 
difficult  or  prosaic.  Many  of  them  may  be 
easily  acquired,  and  they  will  be  found  of 
great  interest  even  to  the  general  reader. 
We  should  endeavor  to  know  something  of 


30         "fcappiness  Derives  from  JBoofcs. 

all  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  everything  of 
the  one  which  is  most  important  to  us  in  our 
professions  or  occupations. 

The  debt  which  we  owe  to  science  was 
eloquently  described  by  Archdeacon  Farrar, 
in  his  address  at  Liverpool  College,  some 
years  ago.  He  said  : 

"In  this  great  commercial  city,  where  you 
are  surrounded  by  the  triumphs  of  science 
and  of  mechanism,  you,  whose  river  is 
plowed  with  the  great  steamships  whose 
white  wake  has  been  called  the  fittest  avenue 
to  the  palace  front  of  a  mercantile  people — 
you  know  well  that  in  the  achievements  of 
science  there  is  not  only  beauty  and  wonder, 
but  also  beneficence  and  power.  It  is  not 
only  that  she  has  revealed  to  us  infinite  space 
crowded  with  unnumbered  worlds  ;  infinite 
time  peopled  by  unnumbered  existences  ; 
infinite  organisms  hitherto  invisible  but  fullof 
delicate  and  iridescent  loveliness ;  but  also 
that  she  has  been,  as  a  great  Archangel  of 
Mercy,  devoting  herself  to  the  service  of 
man.  She  has  labored,  her  votaries  have 
labored,  not  to  increase  the  power  of  despots 
or  add  to  the  magnificence  of  courts,  but  to 
extend  human  happiness,  to  economize  hu- 
man effort,  to  extinguish  human  pain.  Where, 
of  old,  men  toiled,  half  blinded  and  half 


f>appfnes3  Derived  from  JSoofts.         31 

naked,  in  the  mouth  of  the  glowing  furnace 
to  mix  the  white-hot  iron,  she  now  substi- 
tutes the  mechanical  action  of  the  viewless 
air.  She  has  enlisted  the  sunbeam  in  her  ser- 
vice to  limn  for  us,  with  absolute  fidelity,  the 
faces  of  the  friends  we  love.  She  has  shown 
the  poor  miner  how  he  may  work  in  safety, 
even  amid  the  explosive  fire-damp  of  the 
mine.  She  has,  by  her  anaesthetics,  enabled 
the  sufferer  to  be  hushed  and  unconscious 
while  the  delicate  hand  of  some  skilled  oper- 
ator cuts  a  fragment  from  the  nervous  circle 
of  the  unquivering  eye.  She  points  not  to 
pyramids  built  during  weary  centuries  by  the 
sweat  of  miserable  nations,  but  to  the  light- 
house, and  the  steamship,  to  the  railroad  and 
the  telegraph.  She  has  restored  eyes  to  the 
blind  and  hearing  to  the  deaf.  She  has 
lengthened  life,  she  has  minimized  danger, 
she  has  controlled  madness,  and  trampled 
on  disease.  And  on  all  these  grounds,  I  think 
that  none  of  our  sons  should  grow  up  wholly 
ignorant  of  studies  which  at  once  train  the 
reason  and  fire  the  imagination,  which  fash- 
ion as  well  as  forge,  which  can  feed  as  well 
as  fill,  the  mind." 

The  variety  of  knowledge  is  endless,  and 
the  student  is  never  at  a  loss  for  mental 
aliment. 


32         Ibappfness  Derives  from  JBoofes. 

"  We  may  sit  in  our  library  and  yet  be  in 
all  quarters  of  the  earth.  We  may  travel 
round  the  world  with  Captain  Cook  or  Dar- 
win, with  Kingsley  or  Ruskin,  who  will  show 
us  much  more  perhaps  than  ever  we  should 
see  for  ourselves.  The  world  itself  has  no 
limits  for  us ;  Humboldt  and  Herschel  will 
carry  us  far  away  to  the  mysterious  nebulae, 
far  beyond  the  sun  and  even  the  stars ;  time 
has  no  more  bounds  than  space ;  history 
stretches  out  behind  us,  and  geology  will 
carry  us  back  for  millions  of  years  before  the 
creation  of  man,  even  to  the  origin  of  the 
material  Universe  itself.  We  are  not  limited 
even  to  one  plane  of  thought.  Aristotle  and 
Plato  will  transport  us  into  a  sphere  none 
the  less  delightful  because  it  requires  some 
training  to  appreciate  it.  We  may  make  a 
library,  if  we  do  but  rightly  use  it,  a  true 
paradise  on  earth,  a  garden  of  Eden  without 
its  one  drawback,  for  all  is  open  to  us,  includ- 
ing and  especially  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  of  which  we  are  told  that  our  first 
mother  sacrificed  all  the  rest.  Here  we  may 
read  the  most  important  histories,  the  most 
exciting  volumes  of  travels  and  adventures, 
the  most  interesting  stories,  the  most  beau- 
tiful poems  ;  we  may  meet  the  most  eminent 
statesmen  and  poets  and  philosophers,  bene- 


•fcappiness  2>erix>eD  from  JSoofcs.         33 

fit  by  the  ideas  of  the  greatest  thinkers,  and 
enjoy  all  the  greatest  creations  of  human 
genius.'' 

By  reading  the  experiences  recorded  in 
the  biographies  of  individuals  and  the  history 
of  nations,  a  young  man  may  become  old 
without  wrinkles  or  gray  hairs,  and  he  has 
all  the  privileges  of  age  without  the  infirmi- 
ties and  inconveniences  incident  to  that 
period  of  life. 

Isaac  Walton  says :  "  He  that  loveth  a 
book  will  never  want  a  faithful  friend,  a 
wholesome  counsellor,  a  cheerful  companion, 
an  effectual  comforter.  By  study,  by  read- 
ing, by  thinking,  one  may  innocently  divert 
and  pleasantly  entertain  himself,  as  in  all 
weathers,  so  in  all  fortunes." 

Macaulay's  love  of  reading  is  well  known. 
It  was  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  happiness 
in  his  life. 

Sir  G.  Trevelyan  says  of  his  love  of  read- 
ing :  "  Of  the  feelings  which  Macaulay  en- 
tertained toward  the  great  minds  of  bygone 
ages  it  is  not  for  any  one  except  himself  to 
speak.  He  has  told  us  how  his  debt  to  them 
was  incalculable ;  how  they  guided  him  to 
truth ;  how  they  filled  his  mind  with  noble 
and  graceful  images ;  how  they  stood  by 
him  in  all  vicissitudes — comforters  in  sorrow, 


34         Ibapptness  Derives  from  3J3oohs. 

nurses  in  sickness,  companions  in  solitude, 
the  old  friends  who  are  never  seen  with  new 
faces  ;  who  are  the  same  in  wealth  and  in 
poverty,  in  glory  and  in  obscurity.  Great  as 
were  the  honors  and  possessions  which 
Macaulay  acquired  by  his  pen,  all  who  knew 
him  were  well  aware  that  the  titles  and  re- 
wards which  he  gained  by  his  own  works 
were  as  nothing  in  the  balance  as  compared 
with  the  pleasure  he  derived  from  the  works 
of  others." 

As  long  ago  as  1473,  Richard  de  Bury, 
Bishop  of  Durham,  wrote  in  praise  of  books : 
"  These  are  the  masters  who  instruct  us 
without  rods  and  ferules,  without  hard  words 
and  anger,  without  clothes  or  money.  If  you 
approach  them,  they  are  not  asleep  ;  if  inves- 
tigating you  interrogate  them,  they  conceal 
nothing  ;  if  you  mistake  them,  they  never 
grumble  ;  if  you  are  ignorant,  they  cannot 
laugh  at  you." 

Petrarch  had  such  a  love  of  books  that  he 
regarded  them  as  real  friends.  He  says  of 
them  :  "  I  have  friends  whose  society  is  ex- 
tremely agreeable  to  me  ;  they  are  of  all 
ages  and  of  every  country.  They  have  dis- 
tinguished themselves  both  in  the  cabinet 
and  in  the  field,  and  obtained  high  honors 
for  their  knowledge  of  the  sciences.  It  is 


Derived  from  JBoofcs.         35 


easy  to  gain  access  to  them,  for  they  are 
always  at  my  service,  and  I  admit  them  to 
my  company,  and  dismiss  them  from  it, 
whenever  I  please.  They  are  never  trouble- 
some, but  immediately  answer  every  ques- 
tion I  ask  them.  Some  relate  to  me  the 
events  of  past  ages,  while  others  reveal  to 
me  the  secrets  of  Nature.  Some  teach  me 
how  to  live,  and  others  how  to  die.  Some 
by  their  vivacity  drive  away  my  cares  and 
exhilarate  my  spirits  ;  while  others  give  for- 
titude to  my  mind,  and  teach  me  the  impor- 
tant lesson  how  to  restrain  my  desires,  and 
to  depend  wholly  on  myself.  They  open  to 
me,  in  short,  the  various  avenues  of  all  the 
arts  and  sciences,  and  upon  their  information 
I  may  safely  rely  in  all  emergencies.  In  re- 
turn for  all  their  services,  they  only  ask  me 
to  accommodate  them  with  a  convenient 
chamber  in  some  corner  of  my  humble 
habitation,  where  they  may  repose  in  peace  ; 
for  these  friends  are  more  delighted  by  the 
tranquillity  of  retirement  than  with  the 
tumults  of  society." 

If  books  of  a  moral  and  religious  character 
are  not  circulated  more  widely  in  this  coun- 
try among  the  masses,  and  the  people  do  not 
become  more  moral  and  religious,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  tell  what  will  become  of  us  as  a 


36         "fcappfness  Derived  from  JBoofes. 

nation.  If  the  Bible  and  other  good  books 
do  not  reach  every  home,  literature  of  a 
licentious  character  will.  If  the  power  of  the 
gospel  is  not  felt  throughout  the  country, 
anarchy  and  misrule,  misery  and  corruption 
will  assuredly  reign. 

The  best  books  may  now  be  had  for  such  a 
small  price  that  the  poorest  mechanic  should 
be  able  to  have  a  library. 

Many  of  our  young  people  think  they  are 
educated  when  they  leave  school  or  college. 
The  collegiate  training  which  they  have  re- 
ceived, has,  on  the  contrary,  only  prepared 
them  to  become  educated.  As  Carlyle  truly 
says :  "  After  all  manner  of  professors  have 
done  their  best  for  us,  the  place  we  are  to 
get  knowledge  is  in  books. — The  true  univer- 
sity of  these  days,  is  a  good  collection  of 
books."  Education  is  to  the  human  soul, 
what  sculpture  is  to  a  block  of  marble.  The 
wise,  the  great,  the  good,  the  statesman,  the 
hero  and  the  saint,  very  often  lie  concealed 
and  hid  in  a  man  of  obscure  origin,  which  a 
proper  education  might  have  disinterred  and 
brought  to  light.  We  have  no  material  which 
should  be  wasted.  There  is  still  room  for 
men  like  Lincoln  and  Garfield  and  the  host 
of  great  men  who  have  preceded  them. 

There  can  be  no  greater  and  nobler  work  in 


Berired  trom  JSoofis.         37 


the  world,  and  no  greater  political  wisdom, 
than  to  rear  and  build  up  man,  and  to  form 
and  fashion  him  to  piety,  justice  and  tem- 
perance, and  all  kinds  of  honest  and  worthy 
actions. 

Our  common  school  system  of  public  in- 
struction should  be  the  first  object  of  our 
state  governments.  The  greater  the  number 
of  schoolhouses,  the  fewer  will  be  the  jails 
and  almshouses. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHEERFULNESS. 

King  George  the  Third  was  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  study  of  longevity,  and  he  made 
its  causes  a  subject  of  careful  investigation. 
On  one  occasion  he  procured  two  persons, 
each  considerably  more  than  a  hundred  years 
of  age,  to  dance  in  his  presence.  He  then 
asked  them  to  relate  their  modes  of  living, 
that,  if  possible,  he  might  draw  from  them 
some  clue  to  the  causes  of  their  vigorous  old 
age.  The  one  had  been  a  shepherd,  remark- 
ably temperate  and  circumspect  in  his  diet 
and  regimen  ;  the  other  a  hedger,  equally 
noted  for  the  irregularity,  exposure  and  in- 
temperance of  his  life.  The  monarch  could 
draw  no  inferences,  to  guide  his  inquiries, 
from  such  different  modes  of  life,  terminat- 
ing in  the  same  result.  On  further  inquiry, 
however,  he  learned,  that  they  were  alike  dis- 
tinguished by  a  tranquil  easiness  of  temper, 
active  habits,  and  early  rising. 


Cbecttulness.  39 


So  far  as  the  author's  observation  and 
reading  extend,  there  are  three  circumstances 
which  have  almost  invariably  accompanied 
health  and  longevity.  These  aged  persons 
have  lived  in  elevated,  rather  than  in  low 
and  marshy  situations  ;  have  been  possessed 
of  a  cheerful  and  tranquil  temperament,  and 
active  habits;  and  have  been  early  risers. 
People  who  are  cheerful  and  light-hearted, 
undoubtedly  live  longer  and  more  happily 
than  those  of  a  sorrowful  and  melancholy 
disposition. 

Shakespeare  says:  "A  light  heart  lives 
long,"  and  we  are  told  by  the  Bible  that,  "  a 
merry  heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine, 
but  a  broken  spirit  drieth  up  the  bones." 
The  lives  of  centenarians  proves  conclusively 
the  truth  of  the  scriptural  observations. 
Lord  Bacon  also  observes,  that,  "  to  be  free- 
minded  and  cheerfully  disposed  at  hours  of 
meals,  and  of  sleep,  and  of  exercise^  is  one  of 
tJte  best  precepts  of  long  lasting" 

Fortunately  cheerfulness  may  be  culti- 
vated, and  no  matter  how  sad  or  morose  a 
man  may  be,  he  can  become  happy  and 
cheerful  if  he  will  only  try,  and  when  once 
acquired  it  is  a  jewel  of  inestimable  value. 
Montaigne  says :  "  The  highest  wisdom  is  con- 
tinual cheerfulness,  and  that  such  a  state,  like 


40  Cheerfulness. 


the  region  above  the  moon,  is  always  clear 
and  serene." 

Sadness  is  unnatural ;  cheerfulness  natu- 
ral. Ruskin  says :  "  Cheerfulness  is  as 
natural  to  the  heart  of  a  man  in  strong 
health,  as  color  to  his  cheek ;  and  wherever 
there  is  habitual  gloom,  there  must  be  either 
bad  air,  unwholesome  food,  improperly  severe 
labor,  or  erring  habits  of  life." 

We  should  be  cheerful  always.  There  Is  no 
road  but  will  be  easier  travelled,  no  work  but 
will  be  better  done,  no  load  but  will  be  lighter, 
no  shadow  on  heart  and  brain  but  will  lift 
sooner  for  a  person  of  determined  cheerful- 
ness. 

We  must  often  console  ourselves  with  the 
words  of  the  poet, 

"  Be  still,  sad  heart,  and  cease  repining, 
Behind  the  cloud,  the  sun's  still  shining, 
Thy  fate  is  the  common  lot  of  all, 
Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall." 

The  habit  of  looking  for  the  silver  lining  of 
the  cloud,  and  when  it  is  found,  of  continuing 
to  look  at  it,  rather  than  at  the  leaden  gray 
in  the  middle,  will  help  us  over  many  hard 
places. 

Even    the    sad,    dyspeptic     Carlyle,   rec- 


Cheerfulness.  41 


ognized  the  value  of  cheerfulness,  for  he 
says  of  it:  "Wondrous  is  the  strength  of 
cheerfulness,  altogether  past  calculation  its 
powers  of  endurance.  Efforts  to  be  perma- 
nently useful,  must  be  uniformly  joyous ;  a 
spirit  all  sunshine,  graceful  from  very  glad- 
ness, beautiful  because  bright." 

"Again  he  says:  "Wondrous  is  the  strength 
of  cheerfulness,  and  its  power  of  endurance 
— the  cheerful  man  will  do  more  in  the  same 
time,  will  do  it  better,  will  persevere  in  it 
longer,  than  the  sad  or  sullen." 

He  says  also :  "  Oh,  give  us  the  man  who 
sings  at  his  work." 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  PLEASURES  OF  DUTY. 

There  is  no  nobler  word  in  the  English 
language  than  duty.  Without  the  perform- 
ance of  duty,  there  can  be  no  happiness. 
We  can  face  or  fly  from  every  evil,  except 
the  consciousness  of  duty  unperformed.  As 
Sir  John  Lubbock  says  :  "  We  ought  not  to 
picture  Duty  to  ourselves,  or  to  others,  as  a 
stern  task-mistress.  She  is  rather  a  kind  and 
sympathetic  mother,  ever  ready  to  shelter  us 
from  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  this  world, 
and  to  guide  us  in  the  paths  of  peace." 

The  violation  of  duty  has  been  punished 
in  every  age  of  the  world.  It  has  been  well 
said,  by.  Colton,  that:  "Anthony  sought  for 
happiness  in  love  ;  Brutus,  in  glory ;  Caesar, 
in  dominion  ;  the  first  found  disgrace,  the 
second  disgust,  the  last  ingratitude,  and  each 
destruction."  The  soul  is  immediately  con- 
scious of  the  presence  of  God,  when  it  resolves 
to  perform  every  duty. 
42 


C be  pleasures  of  But?.  43 

We  should  do  the  duty  that  lies  nearest  at 
hand.  The  justly  celebrated  Dr.  Cuyler 
wisely  says :  "  The  best  things  are  nearest : 
light  in  your  eyes,  flowers  at  your  feet,  duties 
at  your  hand,  the  path  of  God  just  before 
you.  Then  do  not  grasp  at  the  stars,  but  do 
life's  common  work  as  it  comes,  certain  that 
daily  duties  and  daily  bread  are  the  sweetest 
things  of  life." 

Again  he  says  :  "  God  always  has  an  angel 
of  help  for  those  who  are  willing  to  do  their 
duty." 

These  words  are  worthy  of  great  consid- 
eration. We  are  too  apt  to  waste  our  time 
in  looking  out  of  the  way  for  occasions  to 
exercise  rare  and  great  virtues,  and  in  doing 
this  we  step  over  the  ordinary  ones  that  lie 
directly  in  the  path  before  us. 

He  only  is  truly  wise  who,  in  all  the  rela- 
tions of  life,  does  his  duty  according  to  the 
light  he  has  before  him,  and  then  leaves  all 
beside — to  God. 

It  is  a  good  rule  to  ask  ourselves  what  we 
shall  wish  on  the  morrow  that  we  had  done, 
if  we  are  in  doubt  what  to  do. 

Few  persons,  however,  are  endowed  with 
that  strength  of  mind  which  enabled  Epicte- 
tus  to  say :  "  I  am  always  content  with  that 
which  happens,  for  I  think  that  what  God 


44  tlbe  pleasures  of  Dutg. 

chooses  is  better  than  what  I  choose."  The 
same  great  writer  advises  us  to  practise  self- 
control  in  the  following  language  :  "  You  are 
not  Hercules,  and  you  are  not  able  to  purge 
away  the  wickedness  of  others ;  nor  yet  are 
you  Theseus,  able  to  purge  away  the  evil 
things  of  Attica.  Clear  away  your  own. 
From  yourself,  from  your  thoughts ;  cast 
away,  instead  of  Procrustes  and  Sciron,  sad- 
ness, fear,  desire,  envy,  malevolence,  avarice, 
effeminacy,  intemperance.  But  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  eject  these  things  otherwise  than  by 
looking  to  God  only,  by  fixing  your  affec- 
tions on  Him  only,  by  being  consecrated  by 
His  commands." 

And  concerning  the  cure  of  anger  he  says : 
"  If,  then,  you  wish  not  to  be  of  an  angry 
temper,  do  not  feed  the  habit ;  throw 
nothing  on  it  which  will  increase  it ;  at  first 
keep  quiet,  and  count  the  days  on  which 
you  have  not  been  angry.  I  used  to  be  in  a 
passion  every  day ;  now  every  second  day ; 
then  every  third ;  then  every  fourth.  But 
if  you  have  intermitted  thirty  days,  make  a 
sacrifice  to  God.  For  the  habit  at  first  be- 
gins to  be  weakened,  and  then  is  completely 
destroyed.  When  you  can  say :  '  I  have  not 
been  vexed  to-day,  nor  the  day  before,  nor 
yet  on  any  succeeding  day  during  two  or 


pleasures  of  2>utg.  45 


three  months;  but  I  took  care  when  some 
exciting  things  happened,'  be  assured  that 
you  are  in  a  good  way." 

We  cannot  read  too  often  the  instructive 
lesson  drawn  for  us  by  Marcus  Aurelius  in 
his  character  of  Antoninus  :  "  Do  everything 
as  a  disciple  of  Antoninus.  Remember  his 
constancy  in  every  act  which  was  conform- 
able to  reason,  and  his  evenness  in  all  things, 
and  his  piety,  and  the  serenity  of  his  coun- 
tenance, and  his  sweetness,  and  his  disregard 
of  empty  fame,  and  his  efforts  to  understand 
things  ;  and  how  he  would  never  let  any- 
thing pass  without  having  first  most  care- 
fully examined  it  and  clearly  understood  it  ; 
and  how  he  bore  with  those  who  blamed 
him  unjustly  without  blaming  them  in  re- 
turn ;  how  he  did  nothing  in  a  hurry  ;  and 
how  he  listened  not  to  calumnies,  and  how 
exact  an  examiner  of  manners  and  actions 
he  was  ;  not  given  to  reproach  people,  nor 
timid,  nor  suspicious,  nor  a  sophist  ;  with 
how  little  he  was  satisfied,  such  as  lodging, 
bed,  dress,  food,  servants  ;  how  laborious 
and  patient  ;  how  sparing  he  was  in  his  diet  ; 
his  firmness  and  uniformity  in  his  friend- 
ships ;  how  he  tolerated  freedom  of  speech 
in  those  who  opposed  his  opinions  ;  the 
pleasure  that  he  had  when  any  man  showed 


46  Gbe  pleasures  of  Dutg. 

him  anything  better ;  and  how  pious  he  was 
without  superstition.  Imitate  all  this  that 
thou  mayest  have  as  good  a  conscience, 
when  thy  last  hour  comes,  as  he  had." 

When  we  realize  that  every  moment  has 
its  duty,  and  that  there  can  be  no  true 
pleasure  unless  it  is  performed  ;  that  the 
highest,  most  delicate,  the  most  sensible  of 
all  pleasures,  consists  in  promoting  the  hap- 
piness of  others,  we  will  have  made  consid- 
erable progress  in  the  art  of  being  happy. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TRANQUILLITY  OF  MIND. 

Tranquillity  of  mind  is,  of  course,  essential 
to  happiness.  By  tranquillity  is  meant  that 
state  of  the  mind  in  which,  estranged  from 
the  weaknesses  of  life,  it  tastes  that  happy 
calm  which  it  owes  to  its  own  power  and 
elevation.  Inaccessible  to  the  storms  of 
life,  it  still  admits  those  emotions  which 
give  birth  to  pure  pleasures,  and  yields  to 
the  generous  movements  which  the  virtues 
inspire.  To  the  ignorant  only  does  tranquil- 
lity seem  indifference.  It  is  accompanied  by 
a  delightful  consciousness  of  existence.  We 
may  reflect  with  a  just  pride  upon  the  causes 
which  produce  it.  Without  reasoning  we  re- 
spire and  enjoy  it.  It  is  one  of  the  appro- 
priate pleasures  of  the  sage. 

A  good  conscience  is  the  profoundest 
source  of  this  delightful  calm.  We  shall  at- 
tempt in  vain  to  veil  our  faults  from  our- 
selves without  it,  or  to  listen  only  to  the 
47 


48  {Tranquillity  of  dlMn&. 


voice  of  adulation.  An  interior  witness 
must  testify  that  we  have  endeavored  to  lead 
useful  lives,  and  that  we  have  always  wel- 
comed those  who  offered  opportunities  to  do 
good.  But,  unfortunately,  this  feeling  of 
calm  content,  which  is  the  effect  of  duty  per- 
formed, does  not  take  possession  of  us  until 
many  years  of  our  lives  have  been  thrown 
away  in  a  vain  search  for  the  beautiful  and 
the  good.  But  how  truly  happy  should 
we  be,  when  we  can  truthfully  repeat  the 
words  put  into  the  mouth  of  Wolsey  by 
Shakespeare,  after  the  haughty  prelate  had 
been  sobered  by  his  fall  from  power : 

"  I  know  myself  now,  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities  ; 
A  still  and  quiet  conscience." 

To  the  evil-doer,  on  the  contrary,  con- 
science gives  no  peace,  no  tranquillity  of  mind. 
Shakespeare  has  finely  portrayed  the  punish- 
ment inflicted  upon  the  guilty,  by  conscience, 
in  the  following  passages  : 

"My    conscience     hath    a     thousand     several 

tongues, 

And  ev'ry  tongue  brings  in  a  sev'ral  tale, 
And  ev'ry  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain." 


Sranqulllitg  of  dfcin&.  49 


Again  : 

•'  O  coward  conscience,  how  dost  thou  afflict  me  ! 
The  lights  burn  blue.  Is  it  not  dead  midnight  ? 
Cold,  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  flesh." 

Unfortunately  the  consciences  of  the  most 
hardened  villains  become  seared,  and  they 
become  indifferent  to  its  censure  or  its  praise. 
As  an  example  in  point,  it  is  said  that  a  mer- 
cenary Irishstatesman,uponbeing  reproached 
with  having  sold  his  country,  said  he  thanked 
God  he  had  a  country  to  sell ! 

Nothing  is  more  fatal  to  tranquillity  of 
mind  than  unregulated  ambition.  As  Bur- 
ton wisely  says :  "  As  dogs  in  a  wheel,  or 
squirrels  in  a  cage,  ambitious  men  still  climb 
and  climb,  with  great,  labor  and  incessant 
anxiety,  but  never  reach  the  top." 

The  world  on  the  other  hand  says :  "  Shine 
— ascend  high  places — bind  fortune  to  your 
chariot  wheels  "  ;  the  multitudes  listen,  and 
consume  life  in  tormenting  desires  which  end 
in  disappointment.  He  who  wishes  to  be 
truly  happy,  then,  should  never  renounce  the 
pleasures,  quiet  and  peaceful  in  their  nature, 
which  family,  friends,  and  free  pursuits  daily 
renew,  except  to  do  his  duty  to  his  country; 
but  when  the  land  of  his  birth  calls  for  his 
aid,  he  must  be  ready,  for  her  good,  to  be 


50  {Tranquillity  of  dfcinfc. 


prodigal  of  his  blood  and  treasure,  and  fly 
privacy  and  his  retreat,  emulating  the  ex- 
ample of  him,  of  whom  it  was  said  by  Byron  : 

"  Yes,  one — the  first— the  last — the  best, 
The  Cincinnatus  of  the  West, 
Whom  envy  dared  not  hate — 
Bequeathed  the  name  of  Washington, 
To  make  men  blush  there  was  but  one." 

He  should,  then,  when  his  country  is  in 
danger,  shun  ignoble  ease,  and  be  animated 
by  the  spirit  of  Nathan  Hale,  that  glorious 
martyr,  who  regretted  that  he  could  die  but 
once  to  serve  his  country. 

The  proud  positions  of  the  great,  and  the 
fortunes  of  the  rich,  are  not  to  be  envied,  for 
it  is  true  now  as  in  the  olden  time,  that  the 
head  is  uneasy  that  wears  the  crown. 

Agur  displayed  great  wisdom  when  he 
asked  for  neither  poverty  nor  riches,  but  sim- 
ply enough  for  nature's  ends. 

Shakespeare  placed  contentment  above  all 
other  essentials  of  happiness.  He  says  : 

"  My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head  ; 
Not  decked  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen  ;  my  crown  is  call'd  content ; 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy." 

In  aiding  us  to  acquire  tranquillity  of  mind, 
philosophy  comes  as  a  useful  handmaid  to 


tranquillity  of  Aind.  51 

religion,  and  her  methods  are  not  to  be 
despised,  and  says  Goethe,  "for  this  reason 
one  ought  every  day  at  least,  to  Jieara  little  song, 
read  a  good  poem,  see  a  fine  picture,  and,  if  it 
were  possible,  to  speak  a  few  reasonable 
words"  This  should  be  done  in  the 
morning. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

COMPETENCE. 

"  Virtue  alone  is  happiness  below,"  wrote 
Pope.  A  moment's  reflection  will  convince 
a  man  of  ordinary  intelligence  that  this  is 
not  true.  Virtue  is  one  of  the  most  essential 
ingredients  of  happiness,  but  alone  it  will 
not  procure  it,  if  we  except  the  examples  of 
such  extraordinary  men  as  Diogenes  and 
Epictetus.  In  refutation  of  Pope's  axiom, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that,  when  a  man's 
children  suffer  from  hunger,  when  his  friends 
are  in  distress,  when  he  has  a  broken  limb  or 
a  broken  heart,  although  he  may  be  endowed 
with  the  greatest  virtue,  he  cannot  be  happy 
until  the  cause  of  his  misery  has  been  re- 
moved. 

In  addition  to  a  virtuous  disposition,  in 
order  to  be  completely  happy,  the  average 
man  should  have  a  competence.  What 
amount  of  fortune  is  necessary  to  render  a 
man  independent  depends  upon  the  indi- 
52 


Competence.  53 


vidual.  He  who  can  purchase  the  necessaries 
of  life  has  all  that  he  needs.  The  immortal 
Lincoln  thought  a  fortune  of  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars  should  satisfy  his  own  wants,  or 
those  of  any  other  reasonable  man.  But  in 
this  money-making  and  money-loving  age, 
the  desire  to  get  rich  causes  untold  misery. 
When  a  man  has  made  up  his  mind  how 
much  money  he  needs  to  render  him  inde- 
pendent, he  should  not  cease  to  labor  until 
he  acquires  it.  No  man  can  be  truly  happy 
who  leads  an  idle  life,  but  he  should  not 
make  the  accumulation  of  wealth  the  chief 
object  of  existence,  as  many  short-minded 
men  do.  The  aim  of  a  rational  man  is  to 
lead  a  happy  life,  both  in  this  world  and  in 
the  world  to  come,  and  he  who  is  sordid 
enough  to  devote  all  his  energies  to  getting 
money  invariably  gets  what  he  deserves — 
misery. 

Having  decided  what  amount  of  money 
will  constitute  a  competence  in  his  case, 
with  a  judgment  free  from  ambition,  a  man 
should,  by  industry  and  economy,  endeavor 
to  obtain  that  sum.  He  will  find  much  solid 
happiness  in  the  pursuit  of  his  object,  and 
while  the  pleasures  of  anticipation  will  in  this 
case  not  equal  those  of  realization,  they  are 
not  to  be  despised. 


54  Competence. 


To  be  satisfied  with  a  moderate  fortune  is, 
perhaps,  the  highest  test  and  best  proof  of 
wisdom.  He  who  can  contentedly  live  on  a 
little  gives  a  pledge  that  he  would  preserve 
his  probity  and  courage  in  the  most  difficult 
situations.  He  has  placed  his  happiness 
far  above  the  caprices  of  his  kind  and  the 
vicissitudes  of  life.  But  few  men  have  this 
fortitude  in  as  great  a  degree  as  they  should 
have  it. 

The  author  Hoes  not  mean  to  say  that 
wealth  is  not  desirable.  The  opportunities 
for  doing  good  which  it  offers  are  alone  suf- 
ficient to  make  it  desirable.  And  what  is 
nobler  than  an  humble  imitation  of  the  life 
of  Him  who  went  about  doing  good  ?  The 
wealthy  men  and  women  of  our  country 
have  done  themselves  great  credit  by  their 
laudable  desire  to  use  their  means  in  such  a 
way  as  to  benefit  their  species,  and  no  one  can 
justly  reproach  the  Vanderbilts,  the  Goulds, 
the  Astors,  and  the  hundreds  of  other  un- 
selfish and  humane  millionaires  who  have 
performed  countless  deeds  of  beneficence,  for 
their  indifference  to  the  condition  of  their 
fellow-men. 

It  has  been  well  said  that,  "  There  are  mo- 
ments when  the  desire  of  wealth  penetrates 
even  the  retreat  of  a  sage,  not  with  the  pue- 


Competence.  55 


rile  and  dangerous  wish  to  dazzle  with  show, 
but  with  the  hope,  dear  to  a  good  mind,  that 
it  might  become  a  means  of  extended  useful- 
ness. When  imagination  creates  her  gay 
visions  we  sometimes  think  of  riches,  and  in 
our  dreams  make  an  employment  of  them 
worthy  of  envy.  What  a  delightful  field 
there  opens  for  those  who  possess  riches. 
They  can  encourage  the  progress  of  science 
and  aid  in  advancing  the  glory  of  letters. 
How  much  assistance  they  can  offer  to  de- 
serving young  people  whose  first  efforts 
announce  happy  dispositions,  and  whose 
character,  at  the  same  time,  little  fitted  for 
worldly  success,  is  a  compound  of  indepen- 
dence and  timidity?  How  much  they 
honor  themselves  in  decking  the  modest 
retreat  of  the  aged  scholar  who  has  conse- 
crated his  life  to  study,  and  who  has  neglected 
his  private  fortune  to  enrich  the  age  with  the 
inventions  of  genius  !  They  have  the  means 
of  giving  a  noble  impulse  to  the  arts  without 
trenching  upon  their  resources.  A  picture 
which  perpetuates  the  remembrance  of  a 
generous  or  heroic  exploit  costs  no  more 
than  a  group  of  bacchanalians  or  debauchees. 
A  career  more  beautiful  still  is  opened  to 
opulence.  Of  how  many  vices  and  how 
many  tears  it  may  dry  the  source  !  A  rich 


Competence. 


man  to  become  happy  has  only  to  wish  to 
become  so.  He  can  not  only  immortalize  his 
name  as  the  patron  of  arts  and  useful  inven- 
tions, but,  what  is  better,  can  deserve  the 
blessings  of  the  miserable.  Such  pleasures 
are  durable,  and  may  be  tasted  with  unsated 
relish  after  a  settled  lassitude  from  the  indul- 
gence of  all  others." 

These  observations  deserve  the  serious  con- 
sideration of  the  rich.  What  greater  happi- 
ness can  a  man  have  than  that  of  rewarding 
merit,  relieving  distress,  wiping  away  the  tears 
from  the  eyes  of  the  afflicted,  and  pouring 
oil  and  wine  into  the  wounds  of  the  injured  ? 
He  who  spends  his  life  in  this  way  will  surely 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  noblest  em- 
ployment of  man  is  to  assist  man. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MEANS    OF   ACQUIRING   AND    PRESERVING 
HEALTH. 

Thousands  of  men  and  women  die  every 
year  prematurely,  because  they  do  not  know 
how  to  take  care  of  their  bodies.  They  are 
killed  for  the  want  of  a  little  knowledge  which 
could  easily  be  supplied. 

It  has  been  said  that  health  "  is  that  con- 
dition in  which  the  body  performs  all  its 
functions  easily,  and  thereby  imparts  to  the 
whole  man  a  consciousness  of  strength  and 
an  enjoyment  of  life :  where  the  sensation  is 
so  keen  that  little  pleasures  are  relished,  and 
the  endurance  is  so  strong  that  little  pains 
are  despised.  Health  intensifies  the  pleasure 
of  food,  and  drink  and  sleep  ;  it  makes  sights 
and  sounds  more  interesting  and  more  enjoy- 
able ;  it  sweetens  the  temper  and  it  makes 
the  mind  more  calm,  judicious,  and  fertile. 
Then  labor  is  welcomed  as  a  delightful  exer- 
cise, and  life  is  felt  to  be  an  inexpressible 
blessing." 

57 


58        Bcqufring  an&  preserving  Tbealtb. 


The  wisest  men  of  all  ages  and  countries 
have  paid  great  attention  to  the  preservation 
of  health.  Cicero,  for  instance,  says  :  "  Health 
is  preserved  by  a  knowledge  of  one's  own 
constitution  ;  and  by  observing  what  things 
do  us  good  or  harm ;  and  by  moderation  in 
all  food  and  manner  of  living,  for  the  sake  of 
preserving  the  body  ;  and  by  self-denial  in 
pleasures  ;  and  last  of  all,  by  the  skill  of  those 
to  whose  profession  these  things  belong." 
His  practice  corresponded  with  his  views. 
He  lived  in  a  frugal  manner.  He  rarely  took 
his  meal  before  sunset — a  rule  which  he 
thought  suitable  to  the  weakness  of  his 
stomach. 

He  is  said  to  have  had  stated  hours  for 
rubbing  and  walking.  By  this  systematic 
care  of  his  health  he  acquired  sufficient 
strength  for  the  great  labors  and  fatigues 
which  he  had  to  undergo.  That  good  health 
is  essential  to  happiness  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  Some  one  has  said  that  of  the  one 
hundred  sublunary  blessings  bestowed  on 
'mankind,  Health  is  ninety-nine.  When  a 
man  gets  sick  he  should  send  for  a  physician 
at  once,  that  is,  if  his  disorder  is  of  a  serious 
nature.  As  Lord  Bacon  wisely  says  :  "  De- 
spise no  new  accident  in  your  body  but  ask 
opinion  of  it."  No  advice  will  obviate  the 


acquiring  anD  preserving  "fcealtb.        59 


necessity  of  medical  attendance,  but  disease 
may  be  lessened  by  the  observance  of  a  few 
simple  rules. 

Temperance,  air,  exercise,  gayety,  and  the 
absence  of  care  are  undoubtedly  highly  con- 
ducive to  health.  It  seems  that  our  Creator 
has  ordained  that  the  emotions  which  disturb 
our  days  are  those  which  have  a  natural  ten- 
dency to  shorten  them. 

The  inexperiences  of  youth,  which  are 
usually  the  result  of  ignorance,  are  punished 
with  great  severity.  The  young  prodigally 
waste  the  material  of  life  and  enjoyment,  as 
they  do  their  other  possessions,  as  if  they 
thought  it  inexhaustible. 

The  vices  of  mature  age  succeed  the  errors 
of  youth.  Envy,  ambition,  cupidity,  hatred, 
and  the  other  passions  which  inhabit  the  hu- 
man breast,  unless  they  are  kept  in  subjection, 
concur  to  devour  the  very  aliment  of  life. 
The  storms  which  prostrate  the  moral  facul- 
ties, equally  sap  the  physical  energies.  De- 
basing passions  are  extremely  injurious  to 
health.  Those  inquietudes  and  puerile  anxie- 
ties, which  disturb  the  days  of  the  greater 
portion  of  mankind,  can  be  traced  to  no  other 
source.  They  are  agitated  by  vain  debates, 
and  occupied  by  trifling  interests. 

Emotions  which  are  pleasant  sustain  life, 


60        acquiring  an&  preeervfng  'foealtb. 


and  produce  upon  it  the  effect  of  a  gentle 
current  of  air  upon  flame. 

A  distinguished  physician  recorded  his  be- 
lief, in  his  tablets,  that  three-fourths  of  the 
people  who  die,  die  of  vexation  or  grief. 

Lord  Bacon  says :  "  As  for  the  passions 
and  studies  of  the  mind,  avoid  envy,  anxious 
fears,  anger,  fretting  inwards,  subtle  and 
knotty  inquisitions,  joys  and  exhilarations 
in  excess,  sadness  not  communicated.  En- 
tertain hopes,  mirth  rather  than  joy  ;  variety 
of  delights,  rather  than  surfeit  of  them  ;  won- 
der and  admiration,  and  therefore  novelties  ; 
studies  that  fill  the  mind  with  splendid  and 
illustrious  objects,  as  histories,  fables,  and 
contemplations  of  nature." 

Huffland,  in  his  work  on  the  art  of  pro- 
longing life,  says :  "  Philosophers  enjoy  a 
delightful  leisure.  Their  thoughts,  gener- 
ally estranged  from  vulgar  interests,  have 
nothing  in  common  with  those  afflicting 
ideas,  with  which  other  men  are  continually 
agitated  and  corroded.  Their  reflections 
are  agreeable  by  their  variety,  their  vague 
liberty,  and  sometimes  even  by  their  frivol- 
ity. Devoted  to  the  pursuits  of  their  choice, 
the  occupations  of  their  taste,  they  dispose 
freely  of  their  time.  Oftentimes  they  sur- 
round themselves  with  young  people,  that 


Bcciuirnui  and  preserving  t>caltb.        61 


their  natural  vivacity  may  be  communicated 
to  them,  and  in  some  sort  produce  a  renewal 
of  their  youth."  We  may  make  a  distinc- 
tion between  the  different  kinds  of  philoso- 
phy, in  relation  to  their  influence  upon  the 
duration  of  life.  Those  which  direct  the 
mind  towards  sublime  contemplations,  even 
were  they  in  some  degree  superstitious,  such 
as  those  of  Pythagoras  and  Plato,  are  the 
most  salutary.  Next  to  them  I  place  those, 
the  study  of  which,  embracing  nature,  gives 
enlarged  and  elevated  ideas  upon  infinity, 
the  stars,  the  wonders  of  the  universe,  the 
heroic  virtues,  and  other  similar  subjects. 
Such  were  those  of  Democritus,  Philolaus, 
Xenophanes,  the  Stoics,  and  the  ancient 
astronomers. 

I  may  cite  next  those  less  profound 
thinkers,  who,  instead  of  exacting  difficult 
researches,  seemed  destined  only  to  amuse 
the  mind  ;  the  followers  of  which  philosophy, 
deviating  wide  from  vulgar  opinion,  peace- 
fully sustain  the  arguments  for  and  against 
the  propositions  advanced.  Such  was  the 
philosophy  of  Carneades  and  the  Academi- 
cians, to  whom  we  may  add  the  Grammarians 
and  Rhetoricians. 

Corroding  cares  and  tumultuous  passions 
are  two  sources  of  evil  influences  which 


62        acquiring  anD  preserving  Ibealtb. 


philosophy  avoids.  Another  influence  ad- 
verse to  life,  is  that  mental  feebleness  which 
renders  persons  perpetually  solicitous  about 
their  health,  effeminate  and  unhappy.  This 
trait  is  well  displayed  in  the  character  of 
"  Well-and-Strong,"  in  the  popular  play,  A 
Trip  to  Chinatown.  By  imagining  ourselves 
sick,  we  often  become  so.  It  is  said  that  the 
best  prophylactic  for  preserving  health,  is 
the  undoubting  confidence  that  we  shall  not 
be  sick. 

Too  much  attention  cannot  be  paid  to  the 
action  of  the  mind  upon  the  body.  Although 
physicians  have  of  late  years  given  it  con- 
siderable attention,  many  ancient  authorities 
think  that  they  have  not  made  it  a  sufficient 
element  in  their  calculations,  or  employed  it 
as  they  should.  As  has  been  said  :  "A  man 
reads  a  letter  which  announces  misfortunes 
or  sinister  events.  His  head  turns.  His 
appetite  ceases.  He  becomes  faint  and  op- 
pressed ;  and  his  life  is  in  danger.  No 
contagion,  however,  no  physical  blow  has 
touched  him.  A  thought  has  palsied  his 
forces  in  a  moment ;  and  has  successively  de- 
ranged every  spring  of  life.  We  have  read 
of  persons  of  feeble  and  uninfofmed  mind, 
who  have  fallen  sick  in  consequence  of  the 
cruel  sport  of  those  who  have  ingeniously 


acquiring  and  preserving  1>caltb.        63 

alarmed  their  imagination,  and  cautiously 
indicated  to  them  a  train  of  fatal  symptoms. 
Since  imagination  can  thus  certainly  over- 
turn our  physical  powers,  why  may  it  not 
under  certain  regulations  restore  them  ?  " 

Shakespeare;  that  wonderful  observer,  un- 
derstood perfectly  well  how  some  mental 
dispositions  influenced  health  favorably,  and 
how  others  influenced  it  unfavorably,  and 
his  words  should  be  carefully  weighed : 

"  He  made  her  melancholy,  sad,  and  heavy  ; 
And  so  she  died ;  had  she  been  light,  like  you, 
Of  such  a  merry,  nimble,  stirring  spirit, 
She  might  have  been  a  grandam  ere  she  died  : 
And  so  may  you  ;  for  a  light  heart  lives  long." 
— Lore's  Labour  's  Lost,  \.  2. 

Pecklin,  Barthes,  and  many  others  think 
that  extreme  desire  to  see  a  dearly  beloved 
person  once  more  has  sometimes  a  power  to 
postpone  death.  The  idea  is  a  highly  de- 
lightful one,  and  is  complimentary  to  human 
nature.  Says  a  charming  writer :  "  I  feel 
with  what  intense  ardor  one  might  desire  to 
live  another  day,  another  hour,  to  see  a  friend 
or  a  child  for  the  last  time.  The  flame  of 
love  replacing  that  of  life,  blazes  up  for  a 
moment  before  both  are  quenched  in  the 
final  darkness.  The  last  prayer  is  accorded ; 


64        acquiring  an&  preserving  1>ealtb. 


and  life  terminates  in  tasting  that  pleasure 
for  which  it  was  prolonged.  If  this  be  true, 
the  principle  on  which  the  most  touching 
incident  of  romance  is  founded  is  not  a 
fiction." 

The  food  we  eat  should  be  simple,  and  we 
should  be  careful  not  to  eat  too  much.  If 
we  get  sick  we  may  often  starve  ourselves 
well  again. 

Quarles  says  :  "  If  thou  wouldst  preserve  a 
sound  body,  use  fasting  and  walking ;  if  a 
healthful  soul,  fasting  and  praying.  Walking 
exercises  the  body  ;  praying  exercises  the 
soul ;  fasting  cleanses  both." 

Another  writer  observes  that :  "  We  should 
assist,  not  force  nature.  Eat  with  modera- 
tion what  you  know  agrees  with  your  consti- 
tution. Nothing  is  good  for  the  body  but 
what  we  can  digest.  What  can  procure 
digestion  ? — Exercise.  What  will  recruit 
strength? — Sleep.  What  will  alleviate  in- 
curable evils? — Patience." 

Lord  Bacon  says :  "  I  commend  rather 
some  diet  for  certain  seasons  than  frequent 
use  of  physic,  except  it  can  be  grown  into  a 
custom  ;  for  those  diets  alter  the  body  more 
and  trouble  it  less.  ...  In  sickness,  re- 
spect health  principally ;  and  health  action  ; 
for  those  that  put  their  bodies  to  endure  in 


acquiring  and  preserving  f>ealtb.        65 

health,  may  in  most  sicknesses  which  are  not 
very  sharp,  be  cured  only  with  diet  and 
tendering.  Celsus  would  never  have  spoken 
it  as  a  physician,  had  he  not  been  a  wise  man 
withal,  when  he  giveth  it  for  one  of  the  great 
precepts  of  health  and  lasting,  that  a  man  do 
vary  and  interchange  contraries ;  but  with 
an  inclination  to  the  more  benign  extreme ; 
use  fasting  and  full  eating,  but  rather  full 
eating ;  watching  and  sleep,  but  rather  sleep  ; 
sitting  and  exercise,  but  rather  exercise,  and 
the  like ;  so  shall  nature  be  cherished  and 
yet  taught  masteries." 

A  careful  study  of  this  advice  of  Lord 
Bacon  will  be  highly  advantageous  to  any 
one  desirous  of  prolonging  his  life,  and  of 
enjoying  comparative  immunity  from 
disease. 

The  growth  and  vigorous  condition  of 
every  member  of  the  body  depends  on  exer- 
cise. Many  diseases  are  cured  by  exercise. 
The  Germans,  especially,  have  of  late  given 
great  attention  to  medical  gymnastics.  Lord 
Bacon,  also,  recognized  the  curative  proper- 
ties of  particular  exercises  for  particular 
diseases.  He  says  upon  this  subject : 
"  Diseases  of  the  body  may  have  appropriate 
exercises ;  bowling  is  good  for  the  stone  and 
reins ;  shooting  for  the  lungs  and  breast ; 


66        acquiring  anO  preserving  Ibealtb. 


gentle  walking  for  the  stomach  :  riding  for 
the  head,  and  the  like." 

The  author  is  inclined  to  believe  that 
people  who  lead  sedentary  lives  sit  too  much. 
This  is  especially  true  of  persons  engaged  in 
literary  pursuits.  Many  of  the  greatest 
writers  did  their  work  standing  at  a  desk. 
Longfellow  and  Vicor  Hugo,  always  wrote 
in  this  way. 

It  is  an  excellent  plan,  also,  to  read  while 
walking  up  and  down  the  room,  and  much 
more  can  be  learned  in  this  way  than  sitting 
sleepily  in  a  chair.  But  when  a  man  does 
sit,  he  should,  at  all  events,  sit  erect  with  his 
back  to  the  light,  and  a  full  and  free  projec- 
tion of  the  breast. 

It  should  also  be  borne  in  mind  by  the 
reader  that  while  sitting  on  a  chair,  leaning 
over  a  desk,  poring  over  a  book,  the  blood 
does  not  flow,  and  the  muscles  do  not  play 
freely,  and  that  these  results  can  only  be  ob- 
tained by  outdoor  exercise.  He  should, 
therefore,  if  his  circumstances  will  permit 
him  to  do  so,  make  a  sacred  resolution  that 
he  will  spend  at  least  two  hours  in  the  open 
air  every  day — either  walking  or  riding.  It 
would  be  prudent  to  divide  his  walks  into  two 
periods,  giving  to  them  one  hour  in  the 
morning  and  another  in  the  evening.  He  is 


acquiring  and  preserving  tealtb.        67 


strengthened  for  the  work  of  the  day  by  the 
one,  and  the  other  refreshes  him  after  his 
labors. 

The  morning  walk  should  be  taken  early 
in  the  day.  In  the  winter  he  should  await 
the  rising  of  the  sun.  A  writer  of  considera- 
ble merit  says  that,  "  the  evening  walk 
should  always  be  taken  as  nearly  as  possible 
at  sunset,  not  only  as  being  the  most  beauti- 
ful time,  the  most  calming  and  subduing,  the 
most  wholesome  in  its  influences  upon  mind 
and  body,  but  as  being  usually  the  most 
favorable  as  respects  the  weather ;  it  being  a 
fact  not  noticed  in  the  books,  but  confirmed 
by  the  experience  of  the  writer,  that,  how- 
ever wet  the  day,  there  is  usually  a  cessation 
of  rain  at  sunset,  insomuch  that  in  -nearly 
twenty  years  of  walks  rarely  omitted  at  the 
hour  of  sunset,  he  believes  he  has  not  twenty 
times  encountered  rain." 

Not  only  should  a  man  determine  how 
much  time  he  will  dedicate  each  day  to  ex- 
ercise, but  he  should  appoint,  as  has  been 
said,  the  very  time.  The  same  hour  should 
find  him  engaged  in  the  same  pursuit,  whether 
of  labor,  of  exercise,  or  of  rest. 

In  fact,  every  moment  should,  if  possible, 
be  turned  to  advantage.  Study  should  be 
united  with  recreation,  we  should  work  till 


68        Bcquirfng  an&  preserving  Dealtb. 


the  time  for  recreation  begins,  and  return  to 
work  the  instant  it  is  over.  The  majority  of 
people  fall  into  one  of  two  extremes  of  error 
—either  passing  their  lives  in  worthless  idle- 
ness, or  destroying  health  and  life  by  over- 
work. Every  moment  then  should  be  dedicated 
to  a  purpose,  either  of  study,  rest,  or  recrea- 
tion. 

This  is  the  secret  of  accomplishing  a  vast 
amount  of  work,  and  by  it  we  double  our 
lives.  We  should,  therefore,  work  when  we 
are  at  work,  play  when  we  are  at  play,  and 
rest  when  we  rest,  or  as  Chancellor  Thurlow 
said,  "  the  whole  man  should  be  devoted  to 
one  thing  at  one  time."  Let  not  a  minute 
pass  unemployed.  Exercise  should  be  com- 
bined with  temperance.  "  Temperance  is  a 
bridle  of  gold,  and  he  that  uses  it  aright  is 
liker  a  God  than  a  man;  for  as  it  will  trans- 
form a  beast  to  a  man  again,  so  it  will  make 
a  man  more  nearly  a  God,"  says  Burton.  "  If 
thou  well  observe  the  rule  of  not  too  much, 
by  temperance  taught,  in  what  thou  eatest 
and  drinkest,  seeking  from  thence  due  nour- 
ishment, not  gluttonous  delight,  till  many 
years  over  thy  head  return,  so  mayest  thou 
live,  till,  like  ripe  fruit,  thou  drop  into  thy 
mother's  lap,  or  be  with  ease  gathered,  not 
harshly  plucked,  in  death  mature,"  observes 


acquiring  an&  preserving  t>ealtb.        69 


Milton.  The  foregoing  observations  upon 
the"  means  of  prolonging  the  age  of  man 
should  be  carefully  read.  "  It  is  natural  for 
man  to  express  a  desire  to  live  to  old  age, 
since  nature  by  no  means  forbids  him  to  wish 
for  longevity ;  and  old  age  is,  in  fact,  that 
period  of  life  in  which  prudence  can  be  best 
exercised  and  the  fruits  of  all  the  other 
virtues  enjoyed  with  a  less  degree  of  opposi- 
tion, for  the  passions  are  then  so  completely 
subdued  that  man  gives  himself  up  entirely 
to  the  dictates  of  reason." 

The  heavy  trains  of  infirmities  which  fre- 
quently make  inroads  on  the  constitution^ 
are  the  general  motives,  with  most  people, 
for  renouncing  a  life  of  intemperance,  and 
adopting  a  regimen  of  a  more  abstemious 
nature.  Finding  their  constitutions  impaired 
through  their  intemperate  manner  of  living, 
and  being  fearful  of  consumptive  conse- 
quences, they  apply  to  a  physician  ;  he  tries 
the  power  of  medicine,  and  advises  temper- 
ance, but,  perceiving  that  his  efforts  are  un- 
availing, and  suspecting  that  his  advice  has 
not  been  fully  attended  to,  he  at  length  tells 
his  patient  that  there  is  but  one  method  left 
for  him  to  pursue,  which  will  be  likely  to 
overcome  the  disorder  he  labors  under.  This 
is  a  sober,  moderate,  and  regular  course  of 


70        acquiring  an£>  preserving  fbealtb. 


life,  which  would  be  of  more  service,  do  more 
good,  and  be  as  powerful  in  restoring  the 
constitution,  as  the  intemperate  and  irregu- 
lar one  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  had 
been  in  reducing  him  to  his  present  low  con- 
dition. In  fact,  a  regular  course  of  life  pre- 
serves men,  whose  constitutions  are  not  good, 
and  who  are  advanced  in  years,  just  as  a  con- 
trary course  has  the  power  of  destroying  those 
of  the  best  constitution,  and  in  their  prime ; 
and  for  this  plain  and  obvious  reason,  that 
different  modes  of  life  are  attended  with 
different  effects  ;  for  art  follows,  even  in  this 
case,  the  footsteps  of  nature,  and  with  equal 
efficacy  corrects  natural  vices  and  imperfec- 
tions. This  is  obvious  in  those  who  follow 
the  life  of  a  husbandman.  Without  having 
recourse  to  such  a  regimen  in  the  beginning 
of  a  consumption,  no  benefit  could  arise  from 
it  after  a  few  months'  delay,  and  after  a  few 
more  the  patient  must  resign  himself  to  the 
arms  of  Death. 

The  celebrated  Cornaro  informs  us,  that 
he  was  in  a  similar  situation,  but  that  the 
solid  and  convincing  arguments  used  by  his 
physicians  made  such  an  impression  on  him, 
that,  mortified  as  he  was  by  the  thoughts  of 
dying  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  at  the  same 
time  perpetually  tormented  by  various 


acquiring  an£>  preserving  1>ealtb.        71 

diseases,  he  immediately  concluded  that 
contrary  effects  could  not  be  produced  but 
by  contrary  modes  of  living,  and  therefore 
he  resolved,  in  order  to  avoid  at  once  both 
disease  and  death,  to  adopt  it,  and  betook 
himself  to  a  regular  course  of  life.  The  con- 
sequence of  which  was,  that  in  a  few  days  he 
began  to  perceive  that  such  a  regular  course 
agreed  with  him  very  well ;  and  by  pursuing 
it  he  found,  that  in  less  than  twelve  months 
he  was  completely  freed  from  the  whole  of 
his  complaints. 

Having  thus  regained  his  health,  this  pru- 
dent person  began  seriously  to  consider  the 
utility  and  power  of  temperance,  and  re- 
flected, very  justly,  that  if  this  virtue  (a 
temperate  mode  of  living)  had  efficacy  suffi- 
cient to  subdue  such  grievous  disorders  as  he 
was  afflicted  with,  it  must  possess  still  greater 
power  to  preserve  the  body  in  health,  to  assist 
and  recover  a  bad  constitution,  and  render 
comfort  to  those  whose  stomachs  are  weak. 
"  This  temperate  method,"  Cornaro  says, 
"  had  likewise  this  good  effect  on  me,  that  I  no 
longer  experienced  those  annual  fits  of  sick- 
ness with  which  I  used  to  be  afflicted  while  I 
followed  a  different,  that  is,  a  sensual  course 
of  life ;  for  then  I  used  to  be  attacked  every 
year  with  a  strange  kind  of  fever,  which 


72        Bcquirtng  and  preserving  Ibealtb. 

sometimes  brought  me  to  death's  door.  From 
this  disease  then  I  also  freed  myself,  and  be- 
came exceedingly  healthy,  as  I  have  con- 
tinued from  that  time  forward  to  this  very 
day." 

When  Cornaro  began  to  adopt  this  course 
of  regimen  and  temperance  he  was  between 
forty  and  fifty  years  of  age,  and  at  the  time 
when  he  wrote  this  account  he  was  upwards 
of  eighty. 

As  the  author  has  said,  it  is  also  proper 
that  a  man  should  endeavor  to  avoid  those 
evils  which  it  may  not  be  in  his  power  easily 
to  remove ;  these  are  melancholy,  hatred, 
fear,  discontent,  and  care,  which,  as  Dr.  Arm- 
strong says,  in  words  which  should  be  care- 
fully weighed  : 

"  Fatigue  the  soul, 
Engross  the  subtile  ministers  of  life, 
And  spoil  the  lab'ring  functions  of  their  share. 
Hence  the  lean  gloom  that  Melancholy  wears  ; 
The  Lover's  paleness,  and  the  sallow  hue 
Of  Envy,  Jealousy  ;  the  meagre  stare 
Of  sore  Revenge  ;  the  canker'd  body  hence 
Betrays  each  fretful  motion  of  the  mind. 
Hence  some  for  Love,  and  some  for  Jealousy, 
For  grim  Religion  some,  and  some  for  Pride, 
Have  lost  their  reason  ;  some  for  fear  of  want, 
Want  all  their  lives  ;  and  others  every  day 


acquiring  and  preserving  "fcealtb.        73 


For  fear  of  dying  suffer  worse  than  death. 
Ah  !  from  your  bosoms  vanish,  if  you  can, 
Those  fatal  guests  ;  and  first  the  demon  Fear, 
That  trembles  at  impossible  events, 
Lest  aged  Atlas  should  resign  his  load, 
And  Heav'n's  eternal  battlements  rush  down." 

These  and  other  violent  passions  have  the 
greatest  influence,  at  times,  over  the  minds 
of  men  ;  and  even  Cornaro  himself  tells  us 
that  he  was  not  able  to  guard  so  well  against 
either  one  or  the  other  of  such  disorders,  so 
as  to  prevent  himself  from  being  occasion- 
ally hurried  away  by  many,  not  to  say  all  of 
them,  but  comforts  himself  with  the  idea 
that,  by  his  temperate  mode  of  living,  they 
did  very  little  harm  to  him.  But  Dr.  Arm- 
strong also  says  that  passions  like  these, 
where  they  obtain  the  mastery,  often  destroy 
the  mind : 

"  And  when  the  mind 
They  first  invade,  the  conscious  body  soon 
In  sympathetic  languishment  declines. 
These  chronic  Passions,  while  from  real  woes 
They  rise  and  yet  without  the  body's  fault 
Infest  the  soul,  admit  one  only  cure  ; 
Diversion,  hurry,  and  a  restless  life. 
Go,  soft  enthusiast !  seek  the  cheerful  haunts 
Of  men,  and  mingle  with  the  bustling  crowd ; 


74        acquiring  an£>  preserving  Ibealtb. 


Lay  schemes  for  wealth,  or  power,  or  fame,  the 

wish 
Of  nobler  minds,  and  push  them  night  and  day." 

Such  are  Dr.  Armstrong's  able  reasonings 
on  the  passions  incidental  to  humanity,  and 
the  advice  he  gives  for  counteracting  them  is 
of  great  value,  since  it  appears  most  likely 
to  have  the  desired  effect.  When  a  man  is 
overwhelmed  with  sorrow,  or  burdened  with 
care,  he  should  avoid  solitude  as  he  would  a 
pestilence.  He  should  seek  the  society  of 
his  fellow-men.  He  will  find  great  relief  in 
freely  communicating  his  troubles  to  his 
friends  when  he  can  obtain  relief  in  no  other 
way.  The  sage  Pythagoras  said  :  "  Eat  not 
the  heart,"  and  Lord  Bacon,  in  commenting 
upon  the  expression,  says  :  "  Certainly,  if  a 
man  would  give  it  a  hard  phrase,  those  that 
want  friends  to  open  themselves  unto,  are 
cannibals  of  their  own  hearts  ;  but  one  thing 
is  most  admirable,  which  is,  that  this  com- 
municating of  a  man's  self  to  his  friend, 
works  two  contrary  effects,  for  it  redoubleth 
joys,  and  cutteth  grief  in  halfs ;  for  there  is 
no  man  that  imparteth  his  joys  to  his  friend, 
but  he  joyeth  the  more ;  and  no  man  that 
imparteth  his  grief  to  his  friend,  but  he 
grieveth  the  less." 


acquiring  an£>  preserving  t>ealtb.        75 

Vocal  or  instrumental  music,  if  it  is  good, 
and  labor,  or  bodily  exercise  of  any  kind,  are 
also  excellent  antidotes  for  sorrow. 

After  the  separation  of  the  Empress  Jose- 
phine from  Napoleon  she  was  almost  dis- 
tracted with  grief,  and  the  only  remedy  which 
was  found  effective,  in  the  alleviation  of  her 
sorrow,  was  a  long  walk,  every  day,  with  her 
female  companions.  She  walked  till  she  was 
almost  exhausted,  and  by  tiring  her  body 
rested  her  mind. 

Temperance  and  orderly  living,  then,  are 
the  foundations  of  health  and  long  life. 

Physicians  of  eminence  say,  that  if  a  man 
will  follow  a  regular  course  of  life,  eat  mod- 
erately, drink  sparingly,  always  leave  room 
for  more,  and  digest  regularly,  it  would  pre- 
serve his  body  in  health,  and  be  the  means 
of  prolonging  his  life  for  years,  and  when  at 
last  he  found  his  end  approaching,  he  would 
leave  the  world  without  experiencing  any 
material  sickness,  but  from  a  dissolution  of 
the  radical  moisture,  when  nature  would  be 
quite  exhausted. 

The  celebrated  Cornaro  tells  us,  "  that 
whoever  leads  a  regular  life  cannot  be  dis- 
eased, or,  at  least,  seldom,  and  that  for  a 
short  time ;  because,  by  living  regularly,  he 
extirpates  every  seed  of  sickness,  and  thus 


76        ficqutrfng  anb  fcreservtncj  Ibealtb. 

by  removing  the  cause,  prevents  the  effect ; 
so  that  he  who  pursues  a  regular  course  of 
life  need  not  be  apprehensive  of  illness ;  for 
he  who  has  guarded  against  the  cause  need 
not  be  afraid  of  the  effect." 

The  following  extract  from  the  same  ex- 
perienced author  is  also  worthy  of  insertion : 
"  Although  I  am  sensible,  like  others,  that  I 
must  reach  that  term  (the  period  of  dissolu- 
tion), it  is  yet  so  great  a  distance  that  I  can- 
not discern  it,1  because  I  know  I  shall  not 
die  except  by  a  mere  decay  of  nature,  hav- 
ing already,  by  my  regular  course  of  life, 
shut  up  all  the  other  avenues  of  death,  and 
thereby  prevented  the  humors  of  my  body 
from  making  any  other  war  upon  me  than 
that  which  I  must  expect  from  the  elements 
employed  in  the  composition  of  this  mortal 
frame.  I  am  not  so  simple  as  not  to  know, 
that,  as  I  was  born,  so  I  must  die;  but  that 
is  a  desirable  death  which  nature  brings  on 
us  by  way  of  dissolution  ;  for  Nature  having, 
herself  formed  the  union  between  our  body 
and  our  soul,  knows  best  in  what  manner  it 
may  be  most  easily  dissolved,  and  grants  us 
a  longer  day  than  we  could  expect  from  sick- 
ness, which  is  violent.  This  is  the  death, 

1  When  Cornaro  wrote  this  he  was,  as  has  been  said,  be- 
tween eighty  and  ninety  years  of  age. 


acquiring  and  preserving  fxraltb.        77 

which,  without  speaking  like  a  poet,  I  may 
call,  not  death  but  life.  Xor  can  it  be  other- 
wise. Such  a  death  does  not  take  one  till 
after  a  very  long  course  of  years,  and  in  con- 
sequence of  an  extreme  weakness  ;  it  being 
only  by  slow  degrees,  that  men  grow  too 
feeble  to  walk,  and  unable  to  reason,  becom- 
ing blind  and  deaf,  decrepid,  and  full  of 
every  other  kind  of  infirmity.  Now  I  may 
be  quite  sure  that  I  am  at  a  very  great  dis- 
tance from  such  a  period.  Nay,  I  have 
reason  to  think,  that  my  soul,  having  so 
agreeable  a  dwelling  in  my  body,  as  not  to 
meet  with  anything  in  it  but  peace,  love,  and 
harmony,  not  only  between  its  humors,  but 
between  my  reason  and  the  senses,  is  ex- 
ceedingly content  and  well  pleased  with  her 
present  situation,  and,  of  course,  that  a  great 
length  of  time,  and  many  years,  must  be 
requisite  to  dislodge  her ;  whence  it  must  be 
concluded  for  certain,  that  I  have  still  a 
series  of  years  to  live  in  health  and  spirits, 
and  enjoy  this  beautiful  world,  which  is 
indeed  beautiful  to  those  who  know  how  to 
make  it  so,  as  I  have  done,  and  likewise  ex- 
pect to  be  able  to  do,  with  God's  assistance, 
in  the  next ;  all  by  the  means  of  virtue,  and 
that  divine  regularity  of  life  which  I  have 
adopted,  concluding  an  alliance  with  my  rea- 


78        acquiring  anD  preserving  Ibealtb. 


son,  and  declaring  war  against  my  sensual 
appetites,  a  thing  which  every  man  may  do 
who  desires  to  live  as  he  ought. 

"  Now,  if  this  sober  life  be  so  happy ;  if  its 
name  be  so  desirable  and  delightful ;  if  the 
possession  of  the  blessings  which  attend  it  be 
so  stable  and  permanent ;  all  I  have  still  left 
to  do  is  to  beseech  (since  I  cannot  compass 
my  desires  by  the  powers  of  oratory)  every 
man  of  liberal  disposition  and  sound  under- 
standing to  embrace  with  open  arms  this 
most  valuable  treasure  of  a  long  and  healthy 
life ;  a  treasure  which,  as  it  exceeds  all  other 
riches  and  blessings  of  this  world,  so  it  de- 
serves above  all  things  to  be  cherished, 
sought  after,  and  carefully  preserved.  This 
is  that  divine  sobriety  (agreeable  to  the 
Deity),  the  friend  of  nature,  the  daughter  of 
reason,  the  sister  of  all  the  virtues,  the  com- 
panion of  temperance,  modest,  courteous, 
content  with  little,  regular,  and  perfect  mis- 
tress of  all  her  operations.  From  her,  as 
from  their,  proper  root,  spring  life,  health, 
cheerfulness,  industry,  learning,  and  all  those 
actions  and  employments  worthy  of  noble 
and  generous  minds.  The  laws  of  God  and 
man  are  all  in  her  favor.  Repletion,  ex- 
cess, intemperance,  superfluous  humors,  dis- 
eases, fevers,  pains,  and  the  dangers  of  death 


acquiring  an&  preserving  1>ealtb.        79 


vanish  in  her  presence  like  clouds  before  the 
sun.  Her  comeliness  ravishes  every  well-dis- 
posed mind.  Her  influence  is  so  sure,  as  to 
promise  to  all  a  very  long  and  agreeable 
existence:  the  facility  of  acquiring  her  is 
such  as  ought  to  induce  everyone  to  look  for 
her,  and  share  in  her  victories.  And,  lastly, 
she  promises  to  be  a  mild  and  agreeable 
guardian  of  life,  as  well  of  the  rich  as  of  the 
poor ;  of  the  male  as  of  the  female  sex ;  of 
the  old  as  well  as  of  the  young ;  being  that 
which  teaches  the  rich  modesty ;  the  poor 
frugality  ;  .  .  .  the  old  how  to  ward  off 
the  attacks  of  death ;  and  bestows  on  youth 
firmer  and  surer  hopes  of  life.  Sobriety 
renders  the  senses  clear,  the  body  light,  the 
understanding  lively,  the  soul  brisk,  the 
memory  tenacious,  our  motions  free,  and  all 
our  actions  regular  and  easy.  By  means  of 
sobriety  the  soul,  delivered,  as  it  were,  of 
her  earthly  burden,  experiences  a  great  deal 
of  her  natural  liberty ;  the  spirits  circulate 
gently  through  the  arteries ;  the  blood  runs 
freely  through  the  veins ;  the  heat  of  the 
body,  kept  mild  and  temperate,  has  mild  and 
temperate  effects ;  and,  lastly,  our  faculties, 
being  under  a  perfect  regulation,  preserve  a 
pleasing  and  agreeable  harmony." 

It  will    readily  be   seen,  from  what    has 


8o        acquiring  anD  preserving  Ibealtb. 

been  said,  that  temperance  is  the  universal 
medicine  of  life,  that  clears  the  head  and 
cleanses  the  blood,  strengthens  the  nerves, 
perfects  digestion,  gives  nature  her  full  play, 
and  enables  her  to  exert  herself  in  all  her 
force  and  vigor. 

The  cheerful  and  contented  are  unques- 
tionably more  likely  to  enjoy  good  health 
and  long  life  than  persons  of  irritable 
and  fretful  dispositions  ;  therefore,  whatever 
tends  to  promote  good  humor  and  innocent 
hilarity,  must  have  a  beneficial  influence  in 
this  respect ;  and  persons  whose  attention  is 
much  engaged  on  serious  subjects,  should 
continually  endeavor  to  preserve  a  relish  for 
cheerful  recreations. 

We  meet  with  many  most  remarkable  in- 
stances of  longevity  in  the  history  of  various 
countries  and  of  all  ages.  If  temperance  is 
observed,  it  seems  that  long  life  may  b'e  at- 
tained in  any  country.  The  hot  climate  of 
South  America,  as  well  as  the  intense  cold 
of  Russia,  are  no  bars  to  the  attainment  of 
old  age.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  temper- 
ate climates  are  more  favorable  to  long  life 
than  those  which  are  very  hot  or  very  cold. 

But  in  almost  every  country  there  are  par- 
ticular districts  which  are  more  favorable  to 


acquiring  and  preserving  f>ealtb.        81 


the  health  of  the  inhabitants  than  others. 
The  cause  of  this  superiority  is  chiefly  owing 
to  a  free  circulation  of  the  air  uncontami- 
nated  by  the  noxious  vapors  and  exhalations 
arising  from  marshes  or  stagnant  pools, 
which  destroy  the  purity  in  other  parts.  Of 
this  our  best  physicians  are  fully  sensible, 
and  they  consequently  recommend  that  hilly 
or  mountainous  places,  which  are  almost 
universally  found  to  be  the  most  healthy,  be 
chosen  for  districts  of  residence. 

The  invigorating  employments  and  plain 
diet  of  a  country  life  are  acknowledged  by  all 
who  have  given  the  subject  attention  to  be 
highly  conducive  to  health  and  longevity, 
while  the  luxury  aad  refinement  of  large 
cities  are  allowed  to  be  equally  destructive 
to  man. 

It  is  said  that  the  Arabs  of  the  desert  have 
for  centuries  enjoyed  almost  perfect  immu- 
nity from  disease,  and  that  an  Arab  rarely 
dies  except  from  violence  or  old  age. 

The  desire  of  self-preservation  and  of  pro- 
tracting the  short  span  of  life  is  so  intimately 
interwoven  with  our  very  constitution,  that 
it  is  properly  esteemed  one  of  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  our  nature,  and,  in  spite  of  pain 
and  misery,  seldom  quits  us  to  the  last  mo- 


82        Bcquiring  anfc  preserving  Tbealtb. 

ments  of  our  existence.  Is  it  not  rather  sur- 
prising, then,  that  more  attention  has  not 
been  paid  to  longevity  ? 

It  is  a  subject  which  should  be  carefully 
investigated.  Bills  of  mortality  should  be 
put  on  a  more  extensive  and  useful  footing ; 
they  should  contain  a  particular  account  of 
the  diet  and  regimen  of  every  person  who 
dies  at  the  age  of  ninety  years  or  upwards  ; 
whether  the  parents  were  healthy,  long-lived 
people,  etc.  A  register  of  these  circum- 
stances in  every  county,  city,  and  town 
throughout  the  United  States  would  be  pro- 
ductive of  many  advantages  to  society  in  a 
medical,  philosophical,  and  political  view. 

Longevity  is  so  highly  esteemed  in  China 
that,  it  is  said,  triumphal  or  honorary  arches 
are  erected  to  the  memory  of  persons  who 
have  lived  a  century ;  for  the  Chinese  be- 
lieve that  except  a  man  live  a  sober  and  vir- 
tuous life,  it  is  impossible  he  should  attain 
to  such  an  age. 

Notwithstanding  the  assertion  to  the  con- 
trary, which  is  sometimes  made,  temperance 
is  undoubtedly  the  best  security  of  health 
and  no  man  can  reasonably  expect  to  live 
long  who  impairs  his  vital  powers  by  excess, 
which  converts  the  most  natural  and  bene- 
ficial enjoyments  into  the  most  certain  means 


acquiring  and  preserving  t>ealtb.        s3 


of  destruction.  The  remarkably  few  in- 
stances of  persons  with  constitutions  of  iron, 
who,  in  spite  of  their  licentious  mode  of  liv- 
ing, have  attained  great  age,  cannot  be  put 
in  comparison  with  the  vast  number  whose 
lives  have  been  greatly  shortened  by  such 
indulgences. 

Some  writers  on  longevity  say  that  moder- 
ate-sized and  well-proportioned  persons  have 
certainly  tile  greater  probability  of  attaining 
to  a  considerable  length  of  life  ;  this  may 
seem  reasonable,  but  there  are  some  instances 
to  the  contrary :  Mary  Jones,  who  died  in 
1773,  at  Wem,  in  Shropshire,  at  the  age  of 
one  hundred  years,  was  only  two  feet  eight 
incJus  in  height,  very  deformed  and  lame; 
but  James  MacDonald,  who  died  near  Cork, 
in  Ireland,  August  20,  1760,  at  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  seventeen,  was  seven  feet  six 
incJus  in  stature. 

Since  the  flood,  the  duration  of  man's  life 
has  been  nearly  the  same  in  all  ages.  This  is 
clearly  shown  from  sacred  and  profane  his- 
tory :  Plato  lived  to  eighty-one,  and  was 
thought  an  old  man,  and  the  instances  of 
longevity  adduced  by  Pliny  may  be  most  of 
them  matched  in  modern  times. 

To  cite  two  or  three  modern  instances  in 
support  of  Cornaro's  theory,  that  temperance 


84        acquiring  an&  preserving  Tbealtb. 


in  all  things  is  the  chief  promoter  of  longev- 
ity, the  author  would  refer  to  Prince  Bis- 
marck, Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone,  and  Hon. 
Justin  S.  Morrill  of  Vermont,  all  of  whom 
are  octogenarians. 

Bismarck  attributes  his  long  life  to  temper- 
ance in  everything  ;  daily  exercise  in  the 
open  air  ;  regularity  in  his  hours  of  sleep,  in 
his  diet,  and  in  all  his  personal  habits.  He 
lives  much  in  the  open  air,  and  his  favorite 
exercise  is  horseback  riding,  in  which  he 
freely  indulges.  He  believes  that  cold  water 
is  one  of  the  best  of  tonics,  and  he  takes  a 
cold  bath  every  morning  on  rising  from  bed. 
The  great  Ex-Chancellor  also  has  the  power 
of  banishing,  at  will,  from  his  mind  all  the 
cares  and  troubles  of  life. 

Mr.  Gladstone  is  also  a  believer  in  the  vir- 
tues of  cold  bathing,  and  he  takes  a  bath  on 
rising  every  morning.  He  rises  at  6  o'clock, 
and  breakfasts  at  7.  His  breakfast  is  a  light 
one,  and  when  it  is  finished  he  goes  to  church 
every  day  for  morning  prayer.  Walking  and 
chopping  wood  are  Mr.  Gladstone's  favorite 
forms  of  exercise. 

Senator  Morrill,  who  is  more  than  85  years 
of  age,  believes  that  temperance  is  the  great- 
est promoter  of  longevity.  To  temperance 
he  would  also  add  cheerfulness,  and  the  prac- 


acquiring  and  preserving  txaltb.        8$ 

tice  of  trying  to  render  those  around  him 
happy. 

All  of  the  great  men  mentioned  have  led 
industrious  lives.  Each  day,  nay  each  hour 
of  every  day,  has  had  its  appropriate  employ- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LIVES   OF  CENTENARIANS. 

The  lives  of  nearly  all  of  the  aged  persons 
which  have  been  written,  and  transmitted  to 
us,  prove  conclusively  that  a  life  of  temper- 
ance, and  freedom  from  care,  prolongs  exist- 
ence. 

The  following  sketches  of  the  lives  of  the 
remarkable  people  who  have  lived  more  than 
one  hundred  years,  will  serve  as  examples  of 
the  vast  number  from  which  they  are  taken. 
The  cases  of  men  like  Cornaro,  the  Venetian, 
who  was  born  dying,  and  yet  spun  out  the 
thread  of  life  with  so  much  care  that  he  lived 
a  century,  are  instructive.  Their  opinions 
upon  the  subject  of  diet,  as  well  as  their  hab- 
its of  life,  are  worthy  of  careful  consideration. 
Lord  Bacon  cites  the  case  of  Cornaro,  and 
jests  upon  a  man  who  believed  himself  living, 
because,  in  fact,  he  was  not  dead,  but  Lord 
Bacon  was  convinced  of  the  usefulness  to 
mankind  of  the  habits  and  manners  of  people 
86 


lives  of  Centenarians.  :; 

who  lived  to  a  ripe  old  age,  and  he  wrote  the 
history  of  many  of  them  himself. 

The  most  distinguished  instance  of  longev- 
ity to  be  met  with  in  British  history  is  that 
of  Thomas  Cam,  who,  according  to  the  parish 
register  of  St.  Leonard,  Shoreditch,  died  on 
the  28th  day  of  January,  1588,  at  the  aston- 
ishing age  of  two  hundred  and  seven  years. 

He  was  born  in  the  reign  of  Richard  the 
Second,  1 381,  and  lived  in  the  reigns  of  twelve 
kings  and  queens,  namely,  Richard  II.,  Henry 
IV.,  V.  and  VI.,  Edward  IV.  and  V.,  Richard 
III.,  Henry  VII.  and  VIII.,  Edward  VI., 
Mary,  and  Elizabeth.  The  veracity  of  the 
above  may,  it  is  said,  be  readily  observed  by 
any  person  who  wishes  to  consult  the  above- 
mentioned  register. 

In  the  Russian  Petersburg  Gazette,  pub- 
lished in  1812,  the  phenomenon  is  recorded 
of  one  old  man  in  the  diocese  of  Ekaterino- 
slaw,  of  having  attained  the  age  of  two  hun- 
dred and  five  years. 

Peter  Czartan,  by  religion  a  Greek,  was 
born  in  the  year  1539,  and  lived  one  hundred 
and  eighty-four  years,  dying  on  the  5th  of 
January,  1723,  at  Rofrosh.  When  the  Turks 
took  Temeswaer  from  the  Christians,  he  was 
employed  in  keeping  his  father's  cattle.  A 
few  days  before  his  death,  he  had  walked, 


88  TLlvee  of  Centenarians. 

supported  by  a  stick,  to  the  post-house  at 
Rofrosh,  to  ask  alms  from  the  passengers. 
It  is  said  that  his  eyes  were  exceedingly  red, 
but  he  still  enjoyed  a  little  sight ;  the  hair  of 
his  head  and  beard  were  greenish  white,  and 
some  of  his  teeth  were  still  remaining.  His 
son,  who  was  ninety-seven,  declared  that  his 
father  had  formerly  been  a  head  taller  ;  that 
he  married  at  a  great  age  for  the  third  time ; 
and  that  he  himself  was  born  in  this  marriage. 

He  was  accustomed,  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  his  religion,  to  observe  the  fast  days 
with  great  strictness,  to  use  no  other  food 
than  milk,  a  kind  of  cakes  called  by  the 
Hungarians  kollatschen,  and  to  drink  of  the 
brandy  made  in  the  country. 

The  above  account  is  said  to  have  been 
extracted  from  a  letter  written  to  the  States- 
General  of  the  United  Netherlands,  by  their 
Envoy,  Hamelbraning,  at  Vienna,  and  dated 
January  29,  1724. 

Henry  Jenkins  died  at  Ellerton-upon- 
Swale,  December  8,  1670,  at  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty-nine,  and  was  buried  in 
Bolton  Churchyard,  near  Catterick  and  Rich- 
mond in  Yorkshire,  where  a  small  pillar  was 
erected  in  the  church  to  his  memory,  on 
which  is  inscribed  the  following  -epitaph, 
composed  by  Dr.  Thomas  Chapman,  master 


lives  of  Centenarians.  89 

of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge,  from  1746 
to  1760: 

' '  Blush  not,  Marble, 

to  rescue  from  oblivion 

the  memory  of  Henry  Jenkins  ; 

a  person  obscure  in  birth, 
but  of  a  life  truly  remarkable  ; 

for 
he  was  enriched  with  the  goods  of  Nature, 

if  not  of  Fortune  ; 

and  happy  in  the  duration, 

if  not  the  variety,  of  his  enjoyments  ; 

and  though  the  partial  world  despised  and 

disregarded  his  low  and  humble  state, 

the  equal  eye  of  Providence  beheld 

and  blessed  it 

with  a  Patriarch's  health 

and  length  of  days  ; — 

to  teach  mistaken  man 

these  blessings  are  entailed  on 

temperance, 

a  life  of  labor,  and  a  mind  at  ease. 
He  lived  to  the  amazing  age  of  169." 

Jonathan  Hartop,  of  the  village  of  Aid- 
borough,  in  Yorkshire,  died  in  1791,  aged 
one  hundred  and  thirty-eight.  He  could 
read  to  the  last  without  spectacles,  and  play 
at  cribbage  with  the  most  perfect  recollec- 
tion. On  Christmas  day,  1789,  he  walked 
nine  miles  to  dine  with  one  of  his  great-grand- 
children. 

He  ate  but  little,  and  his  only  beverage 
was  milk, 


go  Xlves  of  Centenarians. 

He  enjoyed  an  uninterrupted  flow  of 
spirits. 

He  knew  Milton  well,  and  is  said  to  have 
loaned  him  ^300  which  Milton  paid,  although 
Mr.  Hartop  would  have  declined  to  re- 
ceive it. 

John  Wood  died  in  June,  1818,  at  the  age 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty-two.  He  was 
an  industrious  farmer  at  Gortnagally,  near 
Dungannon,  in  Ireland. 

He  lived  a  regular  and  sober  life,  and  was 
remarkably  abstemious  with  regard  to  his 
food. 

Thomas  Gaughhan  died  August  16,  1814, 
in  the  county  of  Mayo,  Ireland,  at  the  age  of 
one  hundred  and  twelve.  * 

Though  poor,  he  was  always  cheerful  and 
contented. 

He  passed  one  hundred  and  ten  years  of 
his  life  wholly  unacquainted  with  sickness, 
up  to  the  end  of  which  period  he  was  able 
to  take  a  full  share  with  all  the  young  mem- 
bers of  his  family  in  the  labors  of  the  field. 

Philip  Thompson  died  at  Bedford,  January 
28,  1818,  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  six. 
In  the  course  of  the  summer  of  1817,  he 
had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  wife,  with 
whom  for  upwards  of  seventy  years,  he  had 
lived  in  a  state  of  the  most  perfect  harmony. 


lives  of  Centenarians.  91 

So  singular  an  instance  of  longevity  could 
not  fail  to  excite  attention,  and  the  deceased 
received  visits  from  the  king  as  well  as  the 
surrounding  nobility  and  gentry. 

Up  to  the  period  of  his  decease  it  was  his 
daily  custom  to  take  a  walk. 

Edward  Lawson  died  in  Northumberland, 
in  the  summer  of  1805,  at  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  six.  He  is  said  to  have  been  a 
strong,  muscular  man,  about  five  feet  six 
inches.  He  was  simple  in  his  habits,  and  of 
an  easy  temper,  never  distressing  himself 
about  anything  beyond  the  occurrences  of 
the  moment ;  a  circumstance  which  probably 
contributed  much  to  the  prolongation  of  his 
life. 

Thomas  Parr  at  his  death  was  one  hundred 
and  fifty-two.  He  lived  and  died  at  Win- 
nington,  Shropshire.  He  was  a  poor  country- 
man. At  the  age  of  eighty-five  he  married 
his  first  wife,  by  whom  he  had  two  children, 
who  died  young.  At  the  age  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  he  married  a  widow,  ami  at  the 
very  advanced  age  of  one  hundred  and  thirty 
he  was  able  to  do  any  husbandry  work,  even 
the  threshing  of  corn.  He  frequently  ate  by 
night  as  well  as  by  day ;  was  contented  with 
skimmed  cheese,  milk,  coarse  bread,  small 
beer,  and  whey ;  and",  what  is  remarkable,  he 


92  Xivcs  of  Centenarians. 

ate  at  midnight  a  little  before  he  died.  He 
had  seen  ten  kings  and  queens  of  England. 
A  few  years  before  his  death,  he  was  brought 
to  London  by  Thomas,  Earl  of  Arundell, 
who  presented  him  to  King  Charles  I. 

Parr  became  a  domestic  in  the  family  of  the 
Earl  of  Arundell,  fed  high  and  drank  plenti- 
fully of  the  best  wines,  by  which,  after  a 
constant  plain  and  homely  diet,  the  natural 
functions  of  the  parts  of  his  body  were  over- 
charged, his  lungs  obstructed,  and  the  habit 
of  the  whole  body  quite  disordered  ;  in  con- 
sequence there  could  not  but  soon  follow  a 
dissolution. 

On  the  tomb  of  Stephen  Rumbold,  who 
died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  five  at 
Brightwell,  Oxfordshire,  is  the  following 
inscription : 

"  He  lived  one  hundred  and  five 

Sanguine  and  strong  ; 
An  hundred  to  five 
You  live  not  so  long." 

Margaret  Patten,  of  St.  Margaret's  Work- 
house, London,  was  a  Scotch  woman.  At 
the  time  of  her  death  she  was  one  hundred 
and  thirty-seven  years  old. 

She  always  enjoyed  good  health  till  within 


Xives  of  Centenarians.  93 

a  few  days  of  her  death  ;  and  for  many  years 
lived  on  milk. 

Peter  Mestanea  lived  one  hundred  and 
thirty  years.  He  was  born  and  died  in  the 
village  of  Veniel,  in  the  kingdom  of  Marcia. 
He  was  a  bachelor,  never  tasted  wine,  was 
industrious,  and  bathed  regularly  every 
morning  in  the  river  Segura,  from  the  be- 
ginning of  spring  till  it  froze.  His  teeth 
were  sound,  and  he  had  never  been  attacked 
by  any  acute  distemper. 

John  Hussey  reached  the  age  of  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen.  He  was  a  farmer  of 
Sydenham,  Kent. 

His  breakfast  was  balm-tea,  sweetened 
with  honey ;  and  pudding  for  dinner,  above 
fifty  years;  by  which  he  acquired  long  life 
and  excellent  health. 

Judith  Bannister,  of  Cowes,  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  lived  one  hundred  and  eight  years. 

She  was  attended  to  her  grave  by  eighty 
of  her  descendants. 

She  lived  upon  biscuit  and  apples,  with 
milk  and  water,  the  last  sixty  years  of  her  life. 

William  Sharply,  of  Knockall,  county  of 
Roscommon,  reached  the  remarkable  age  of 
one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  years. 

He  lived  well  and  regularly,  but  in  no 
wise  abstemiously. 


94  Utves  of  Centenarians. 

John  Michaelstone,  grandson  of  Thomas 
Parr,  lived  to  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  by  extreme  temperance  and 
much  exercise. 

Owen  Carollan,  of  Duleek,  county  of 
Meath,  in  Ireland,  laborer,  had  six  fingers 
on  each  hand  and  six  toes  on  each  foot.  By 
temperance  and  hard  labor  he  attained  the 
great  age  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven. 

Elizabeth  Macpherson,  of  the  county  of 
Caithness,  in  Scotland,  at  the  time  of  her 
death  was  one  hundred  and  seventeen. 

Her  diet  was  butter-milk  and  greens.  She 
retained  her  senses  till  within  three  months 
of  her  death. 

Francis  Consit,  of  Burythorpe,  near  Mai- 
ton,  Yorkshire,  reached  the  amazing  age  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty. 

He  was  very  temperate  in  his  living  and 
used  great  exercise,  which,  together  with 
occasionally  eating  a  raw  new-laid  egg,  is 
said  to  have  enabled  him  to  attain  such  an 
extraordinary  age.  For  the  last  sixty  years 
of  his  age  he  was  supported  by  the  parish, 
and  retained  his  senses  to  the  last. 

Philip  Loutier,  of  Shoreditch,  London,  a 
French  barber,  lived  to  be  one  hundred  and 
five  years  of  age. 


lives  of  Centenarians.  95 

He  drank  nothing  but  water,  and  only  ate 
once  a  day. 

Mr.  Butler,  of  the  Golden  Vale,  near  Kil- 
kenny, in  Ireland,  reached  the  ripe  old  age 
of  one  hundred  and  thirty-three. 

He  was  related  to  the  family  of  the  Duke 
of  Ormond  ;  could  walk  well,  and  could 
mount  his  horse  with  great  agility  to  near 
the  time  of  his  death  ;  and  thus,  by  much 
walking  and  riding,  attained  good  health  and 
longevity. 

Mrs.  Clum  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty-eight,  at  her  home  near  Litch- 
field,  Staffordshire. 

By  frequent  exercise  and  temperate  living, 
she  attained  so  great  longevity. 

She  left  one  son  and  two  daughters,  the 
youngest  upwards  of  one  hundred  years. 

In  the  year  1779,  Fluellen  Pryce,  of 
Glamorgan,  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred 
and  one. 

His  organs  had  been  so  little  injured  by 
the  weight  of  years,  that  within  three  years 
of  his  death  he  directed  a  village  choir  in 
some  variations  for  the  Sunday  ;  he  never 
used  spectacles  till  within  fifteen  months  of 
his  death.  He  possessed  an  unusual  flow  of 
spirits,  attended  with  excellent  health  and 


96  Xives  of  Centenarians. 

activity ;  which  blessings  are  said  to  have 
been  the  result  of  his  abstemious  manner  of 
living. 

Herb  teas  were  his  breakfast ;  meat,  plainly 
dressed,  his  dinner  ;  and  instead  of  a  supper, 
he  refreshed  himself  with  a  pipe  of  tobacco. 

With  a  slender  education,  this  man  had  a 
strong  natural  genius,  and  he  produced  a 
poem  called  Carmenta ;  predicting,  with 
great  humor,  the  events  of  the  administra- 
tion of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  and  the  junto 
of  that  period. 

Joseph  Ekins,  of  Combe,  Berks,  laborer, 
lived  one  hundred  and  three  years. 

He  never  suffered  a  week's  illness,  and  for 
the  last  forty  years  of  his  life  subsisted 
entirely  on  bread,  milk,  and  vegetables. 

Edward  Drinker,  of  Philadelphia,  died  at 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  three. 

He  lived  on  very  solid  food,  drank  tea  in 
the  afternoon,  but  ate  no  supper. 

He  was  very  amiable,  uniformly  cheerful 
and  kind  to  every  body  with  whom  he  came 
in  contact. 

His  religious  principles  were  as  steady  as 
his  morals  were  pure. 

It  has  been  said  that,  "  the  life  of  this  man 
was  marked  with  several  circumstances, 
which  have  seldom  occurred  in  the  life  of  an 


TLlvca  of  Centenarians.  97 

individual.  He  saw  the  same  spot  of  earth 
covered  with  wood,  and  a  receptacle  for 
beasts  and  birds  of  prey,  afterwards  become 
the  seat  of  a  city,  not  only  the  first  in  wealth 
and  arts  in  the  new,  but  rivalling  in  both, 
many  of  the  first  cities,  in  the  old  world. 
He  saw  regular  streets  where  he  once  pursued 
a  hare  ;  churches  rising  upon  morasses,  where 
he  had  often  heard  the  croaking  of  frogs ; 
wharfs  and  warehouses,  where  he  had  often 
seen  Indian  savages  draw  fish  from  the  river 
for  daily  subsistence  ;  ships  of  every  size  and 
use  in  those  streams,  where  he  had  often 
seen  nothing  but  Indian  canoes ;  a  stately 
edifice  filled  with  legislators,  astonishing  the 
world  with  their  wisdom  and  virtue,  on  the 
same  spot,  probably,  where  he  had  seen  an 
Indian  council-fire.  He  saw  the  first  treaty 
ratified  between  the  newly  confederated 
powers  of  America  and  the  ancient  monarchy 
of  France,  with  all  the  formality  of  parch- 
ment and  seals,  where  he  had  seen  William 
Penn  ratify  his  first  and  last  treaty  with  the 
Indians,  without  the  formalities  of  pen,  ink, 
and  paper ;  he  witnessed  all  the  intermediate 
stages  through  which  a  people  pass,  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  degree  of  civilization ; 
the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  empire  of 
Great  Britain  in  Pennsylvania. 


98  Xives  of  Centenarians. 

"  He  had  been  the  subject  of  crowned 
heads,  and  afterwards  died  a  citizen  of  the 
newly-created  republic  of  America,  whose 
liberties  and  independence  he  embraced,  and 
triumphed  in  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  the 
salvation  of  his  country." 

Mr.  Smith,  of  Dolver,  Montgomeryshire, 
farmer,  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
three. 

He  was  never  known  to  drink  anything 
but  butter-milk. 

James  Peters  died  at  the  age  of  one  hun- 
dred and  seven.  He  lived  at  Dundee,  and 
was  a  travelling  packman. 

Although  he  often  slept  in  the  fields  and 
shades,  he  enjoyed  an  uninterrupted  state  of 
good  health ;  and  until  the  last  year  of  his 
life,  retained  his  memory.  His  strongest 
beverage  was  small  beer. 

Mrs.  Watkins  lived  to  the  age  of  one 
hundred  and  ten  years.  She  resided  at 
Glamorganshire. 

She  was  remarkable  for  regularity  and 
moderation,  and  for  the  last  thirty  years  she 
subsisted  entirely  on  potatoes. 

Rebecca  Pavey  died  in  the  year  1795,  at 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  six.  She  lived 
at  Norton  Folgate.  She  is  said  to  have  cut 


"Lives  of  Centenarians.  99 

two  new  teeth  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
two,  and  had  all  perfect,  except  two,  at  the 
time  of  her  death. 

Not  a  single  wrinkle  was  to  be  seen  in  her 
countenance.  She  kept  her  bed  but  three 
days  before  her  decease. 

Susan  Mills  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred 
and  two,  in  the  year  of  1796.  She  resided  in 
a  house  called  the  Ship-meadow  Lock-house, 
on  the  Bungay  navigation.  Her  husband 
was  manager  at  the  locks  for  Sir  John 
Balling's  grandfather,  in  the  year  1715,  who 
was  then  proprietor  of  that  navigation. 

This  instance  of  longevity  seems  to 
contradict  the  opinion,  generally  received, 
of  the  unwholesomeness  of  low,  marshy 
situations,  her  residence  being  mostly  sur- 
rounded by  floods  throughout  the  winter. 

Mr.  Charles  Macklin,  of  James  Street, 
Central-garden,  London,  an  eminent  dra- 
matic writer,  and  celebrated  comedian  of 
Covent-garden  Theatre,  died  at  the  age  of 
one  hundred  and  seven. 

In  the  former  part  of  his  life,  till  about  the 
age  of  forty,  he  lived  very  intemperately  and 
irregularly ;  subsequent  thereto  he  de- 
termined to  live  by  rule,  which  he  carefully 
observed. 


ioo  lives  of  Centenarians. 

It  was  his  frequent  custom  to  promote 
perspiration,  and  then  change  his  linen,  par- 
ticularly as  he  advanced  in  life. 

He  was  moderate  at  his  meals,  but  in  a  way 
abstemious,  and  ate  fish,  flesh,  and  other 
kinds  of  food  he  liked,  till  the  age  of  seventy, 
when  finding  that  did  not  agree  with  him,  he 
used,  as  a  substitute,  milk,  with  a  little  bread 
boiled  in  it,  sweetened  with  brown  sugar. 

He  lost  all  his  teeth  about  the  year  1764, 
and  was  thereby  obliged  to  subsist  princi- 
pally on  fish,  eggs,  puddings,  and  spoon  food, 
which  luckily  he  was  very  fond  of. 

For  the  last  forty  years  of  his  life,  his 
principal  beverage  was  white  wine  and  water, 
pretty  sweet. 

He  was  attacked  with  a  severe  fit  of  rheu- 
matism in  the  year  1770,  and,  in  consequence 
to  avoid  it,  discontinued  the  use  of  sheets, 
and  slept  in  blankets. 

It  was  his  custom  not  to  sleep  on  a  feather 
bed,  but  on  a  mattress,  which  was  on  a 
couch,  without  curtains,  placed  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  and  on  which  he  reposed  when- 
ever he  found  himself  sleepy  ;  he  usually  lay 
with  his  head  high,  but,  for  the  last  twenty 
years  never  took  off  his  clothes,  unless  to 
change  them,  or  his  linen,  or  to  be  rubbed  all 
over  with  warm  brandy  or  gin  ;  a  custom  he 


lives  ot  Centenarians.  101 

often  repeated,  and  occasionally  steeped  his 
feet  in  warm  water. 

He  observed  with  the  greatest  strictness 
the  dictates  of  nature ;  ate  when  hungry, 
drank  when  thirsty,  and  slept  when  sleepy. 

Mr.  Humphries,  a  carpenter,  of  Xewing- 
ton,  near  London,  was  so  void  of  curiosity 
that  he  never  was  a  mile  distant  from  the 
house  in  which  he  was  born. 

He  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
two. 

John  Wilson,  formerly  a  blacksmith  of 
Sosgill,  Cumberland,  died  at  the  age  of  one 
hundred. 

His  beverage  was  milk  or  water,  with  the 
exception  of  two  glasses  of  ale,  and  one  glass 
of  spirituous  liquor. 

F.  O'Sullivan,  of  Beerhaven,  in  Ireland, 
died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  eleven. 

He  retained  his  mental  faculties  to  the  last 
moment. 

For  the  last  fifty  years  he  lived  chiefly  on 
fish,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  particularly 
maiden  reas. 

Dennis  Carroll,  a  farmer  of  Ballygurton, 
County  of  Kilkenny,  had  accustomed  him- 
self to  regular  temperance  and  exercise,  and 
thereby  never  experienced  an  hour's  sickness 
during  the  whole  of  his  very  long  life.  He 


102  Xtves  of  Centenarians. 

died  at  the  great  age  of  one  hundred  and 
eighteen. 

John  Reside,  a  farmer  of  Dramul,  in  Scot- 
land, died  at  one  hundred  and  two.  His 
long  life  adds  another  instance  to  the  many 
which  have  been  recorded  of  the  effects  of 
temperance  upon  the  human  frame. 

He  was  temperate  in  all  his  meals,  and  en- 
joyed uninterrupted  good  health  till  near  the 
time  of  his  death. 

He  was,  perhaps,  never  intoxicated  in  his 
life. 

Mrs.  Burnett,  of  Lignageeragh,  in  Ireland, 
died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  sixteen. 
She  was  a  woman  of  uncommon  shrewdness 
and  activity,  benevolent,  and,  as  far  as  her 
means  would  permit,  very  charitable. 

In  her  habits  of  diet,  she  was  very  tem- 
perate ;  she  lived  chiefly  on  potatoes  and 
milk,  and  stirabout ;  never  drank  spirits  or 
beer,  but  sometimes  a  glass  of  sweet  wine,  of 
which  she  was  fond.  She  was  (like  most 
other  long-lived  people)  an  early  riser,  and 
took  regular  but  not  violent  exercise.  For 
the  last  twenty  years  of  her  life  she  seldom 
failed  to  walk  from  the  cottage  where  she 
lived  to  Edgeworth's  town,  a  distance  of 
about  an  English  mile,  over  a  rough  stony 
road.  To  the  last  of  her  long  life  she  pre- 


Xives  of  Centenarians.  103 

served  her  memory,  which  possessed  the  un- 
common faculty  of  retaining  recent  circum- 
stances as  well  as  those  which  happened  in 
her  youth. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Fletcher,  of  Gay's-hill,  Ja- 
maica, died  at  the  amazing  age  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty. 

She  retained  all  her  faculties,  enjoyed  a 
good  appetite,  and  possessed  her  usual  flow 
of  spirits  to  the  period  of  her  death,  and  did 
the  duties  of  her  domestic  concerns  till  the 
last  three  years  ;  she  was  of  a  lively  and 
cheerful  disposition. 

Elizabeth  Beech,  of  Market  Drayton,  died 
at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  four.  She 
was  born  in  the  sixth  year  of  the  reign  of 
Queen  Anne,  and  fully  remembered  the 
coronation  of  King  George  I.,  which  hap- 
pened when  she  was  about  six  years  of  age. 

She  disliked  broth,  tea,  and  all  kinds  of 
stimulants.  She  ate  the  coarsest  food,  such 
as  potatoes  and  bacon,  on  which  she  fed 
heartily ;  of  late  she  abstained  from  cheese. 
She  possessed  her  memory  and  eyesight  un- 
impaired till  within  a  year  or  two  of  her 
death. 

Moses  Gomez  Carvallo,  of  Amsterdam, 
died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  seven. 

He  was  a  native  of  Portugal,  but  emigrated 


104  3Lfves  of  Centenarians. 

from  thence  on  account  of  his  religion  in 
1729.  He  was  twice  married  ;  his  eldest 
son  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight,  when 
his  youngest  daughter  was  only  twenty-two. 
He  enjoyed  all  his  faculties  till  the  moment 
of  his  death.  He  never  lost  a  tooth  or  used 
spectacles.  His  drink  was  milk  and  water, 
with  a  very  small  glass  of  brandy,  which  he 
took  daily. 

Anne  Henley,  of  Smart's  Buildings,  Lon- 
don, died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and 
four. 

She  had  enjoyed  an  uninterrupted  state 
of  health  till  within  six  days  of  her  death, 
and  retained  her  faculties  in  full  vigor  till 
within  a  few  hours  of  her  end. 

Her  beverage  to  her  fortieth  year  was 
whey,  which  she  discontinued  on  coming  to 
London. 

The  latter  part  of  her  life  she  received 
something  weekly  from  the  parish,  but  sup- 
ported herself  chiefly  by  making  pin-cushions, 
which  she  made  neatly  without  the  aid  of 
glasses. 

She  used  to  sit  at  various  doors  in  Hoi- 
burn  to  sell  her  cushions ;  was  short  in 
stature,  always  wore  a  gray  cloak,  and  was 
as  mild  and  modest  in  her  deportment  as 
she  was  cleanly  in  her  person. 


lives  of  Centenarians.  105 

Mrs.  Clarke,  of  Stonehouse,  Kent.  She 
was  at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy  with  her  hus- 
band. She  lived  over  one  hundred  years. 

Tea  was  her  constant  beverage,  and  she 
asserted  that  she  never  drank  either  beer  or 
spirits. 

The  following  sketch  of  an  aged  person, 
which  appeared  in  the  Press  of  April  23, 
1895,  proves  that  there  are  still  people 
among  us  who  observe  the  rules  of  health : 

"  Catherine  Scott,  who  was  said  to  be  the 
oldest  woman  in  Brooklyn,  died  at  No.  64 
Columbia  Street  yesterday,  aged  one  hun- 
dred and  three  years.  She  was  a  remark- 
able person  in  many  ways.  Her  eyes  never 
failed  her,  and  her  memory  was  excellent. 
Things  which  happened  seventy-five  years 
ago  were  as  fresh  in  her  mind  as  those  of 
recent  date. 

"  Mrs.  Scott  was  a  woman  of  excellent 
judgment,  and  her  neighbors  for  miles 
around  sought  her  advice.  She  lived  a  most 
methodical  life.  Every  day  she  breakfasted 
at  six  o'clock,  dined  at  noon,  and  had  tea  at 
six  o'clock.  She  was  of  a  cheerful  disposi- 
tion, and  moved  about  as  rapidly  as  women 
half  her  age.  Occasionally  she  drank  a  glass 
of  ale,  which  she  characteristically  explained 
'  did  her  a  power  of  good.' 


io6  Hives  of  Centenarians. 

"  She  was  a  native  of  Ireland,  and  had 
lived  in  Brooklyn  almost  sixty  years.  She 
was  married  in  1821,  the  year  Napoleon  died 
at  St.  Helena,  which  she  remembered  dis- 
tinctly. She  was  the  mother  of  four  chil- 
dren, all  of  whom  died  long  ago.  She  never 
worried.  There  was  no  sign  of  care  on  her 
face,  which  was  almost  free  from  wrinkles, 
and  her  head  contained  not  a  single  gray 
hair. 

"  The  venerable  woman  retained  all  her 
faculties  to  the  last.  A  few  moments  before 
she  died  she  called  a  grandson  to  her  bed- 
side. 

"  '  Kiss  me,  my  child,'  she  said.  '  I  shall 
not  live  long.' " 


THE   END. 


MARGARET   CARNEGIE  LIBRARY 
MILLS   COLLEGE 


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A    00002877 


